Can't Fight Fate
by JSBG
Summary: Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.
1. First Day

**Right, lets just start this off. I'm not really inspired at the moment to just write a HeYa fic, so instead I'm chanelling my Brittana needs into this fic.**

**I was watching One Tree Hill, and Brittana popped to mind - so basically, this is based on the whole Lucas/Peyton/Brooke/Nathan/Hayley fiasco in the first few episodes. Just on their relationships and stuff, thought it'd be a bit of fun! **

**But don't worry, I am still writing the HeYa fic - but this is my Brittana release! Well I hope you enjoy and please review!**

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.**  
>Rating: <strong>T (For the moment)

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><p><strong><em>The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.<em>**  
><strong>- Blaise Pascal<strong>

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter One**

First day of Senior Year at a new school was coming up, and it wasn't exactly Santana Lopez's idea of fun.

It wasn't her choice to move to Lima, and technically it wasn't her fathers either. He'd decided he wanted a new start after the death of his wife, and Santana's mother. She'd died when her little brother had only just had his first birthday. It took three years for the lawyers to find Maria Lopez' will, and when they had, the news had made quite an impact on the Lopez family.

According to her mother, Santana had a half brother in Lima. Apparently, during a lengthy relationship-hiatus between Santana's mother and father, Maria had been on a school trip to Lima, and met a stunningly attractive tanned jock with a ridiculous haircut and irresistable hazel eyes, going by the name of Benzino Puckerman.

After a drunken night at the Senior ball, and two months of dating him across the states, they'd done the stereotypical thing by losing 'the big V' to each other - which ultimately resulted in Santana's mother pregnant at age 18 and single, due to Benzino's business scholarship landing him at Northwestern.

Due to Santana's fathers reaction, Mario had absolutely no idea about this stepson. Santana's parents had gotten back together a year and half later and he was none the wiser about the pregnancy. The only reason he'd found out was because of the tragic car accident that'd claimed Maria Lopez's life three years ago.

She'd written in her final will that if her death was to ever occur, Santana, Mario (her father) and Luis (her brother) were to move to Ohio to reconnect with their long-lost half family. And to live in the house her parents had purchased years ago in hope Benzino would flunk out of college and make a life with Maria and their baby son, which of course didn't happen.

None of the Lopez's were hopeful and ecstatic about new _hometown_ destination, but due to the urge of wanting to escape New River, find a new place, give in to his dead wifes wishes and an opportune moment to take a free house, Mario had obliged.

So after they packed up their belongings, they took off into the sunset and arrived at Lima, Ohio to reconnect with the 'Puckerman' family. They moved into a small 2 bedroomed house in Lima Heights which ran parallel to the richest street in Lima, ironically named _Prosperus Avenue. _Comparatively, the new Lopez home looked like a cardboard box next to these huge, Greek-God like houses with large pillars supporting the roof and bright white paint covering every inch of the brick that created these mansions.

The house was nicely sized, as long as you didn't stare at the ridiculously large houses in the next street, and as soon as they'd arrived Mario had got to work on the loft, converting it into another bedroom for Santana. It only took two weeks of heavy work before they'd moved in properly, each to their own bedroom.

Santana loved her new bedroom, obviously it didn't have the same spark her one back in New River did, and it smelt weird, but she'd have to get used to the fact Lima, and more important that room, was now _home._ Her dad had decided to install an attic window, which led to a relatively flat, slanted roof overlooking her garden, and giving her a great view of the clear, starry sky above.

Her house was only about five minutes away from her soon-to-be new school, and she could clearly see the large field with aluminium bleaches and bright red flag that swayed in the breeze perched on a large pole next to the seating area.

It only took about three seconds after clambering out the small window to find her 'quiet space', as she liked to call it. Somewhere only she knew, where she could go to think and lay lazily without a care in the world, just dreaming about her future life and how to escape this new, miserable home town.

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><p>The next day was her first day of William McKinley High school. It was completely different from her old school. The halls seemed huge compared to the tiny ones at New River High School back in Arizona and all the students were pretty daunting. However Santana wasn't the usual, shy, new student. She wasn't loud and brash, but when a freshman bumped into her about five minutes after entering the school, she didn't hold back her spanish curse words and signature scowl.<p>

The Indian principal, who went by the name of 'Figgins' handed her a brand new time table with all her lessons after finding her way to his office, and after their quick meeting, she headed off towards her first lesson which luckily was Spanish, her second language. Dressed in a red and white baseball top, dark blue skinny jeans and her favourite pair of white converses, she shoved the paper timetable in her backpack and trudged invisibly down the hallway.

She hated the fact that she was the new kid, because it meant being instantly judged by her clothing and attitude. Barely any of the students had really paid attention as she wandered down the school corridoors. She found it weird but when she saw the _popular's_ part the people like Moses did with the Red Sea she already figured out this was a 'status' school as her friends back in Arizona had called them.

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><p><em>"San, one thing you've gotta remember is to figure out what kinda system it is first."<em>

_Santana turned to Chelsea, her ditsy, redheaded friend whilst gulping down her fries. "What? What do you mean 'system'?"_

_The redhead turned to Elly, their black haired friend and smirked. _

_"There's three types. There's the typically known 'loser system' where everyone gets along with everyone, and most people end up marrying their high school sweethearts and having thousands of babies and mingling in twenty years time before throwing swingers parties and hooking up with old crushes. Which basically means within a week you'll need some type of talent to make sure you survive, usually academic."_

_The Latina cringed and tugged her bottom lips by the sides down violently in a disgusted expression. "Whoah. Fucking hope it's not that one."_

_"Yeah. Us too." Chelsea said before gesturing to Elly to continue._

_"Then there's the 'reject' system, where new kids are instantly bottom of the pile. It seems like your typical high school but when you actually go through life it seems everyones already made friends from their previous year there and unless you do something ridiculously insane like stealing a cop car or setting the janitor on fire, you're pretty much fucked."_

_Santana waved her fist in the air sarcastically, and spoke slowly; "Oh yay. Please, stop holding me back I want to go right this instant."_

_Chelsea and Elly both smiled, jabbing the Latina in the arm playfully at the same time as they laid underneath the beaming hot sun rays near Goose bay._

_"And then you have our own dear schools system, the 'status system' where your popularity and status is the most important thing. There's always a heirarchy, usually cheerleaders or something like that that sleep around with all the jocks. But they're known as 'populars' most of the time, depending on whatever the lame ass school finds powerful. Sometimes it's hockey, sometimes it soccer, or sometimes its cars."_

_"Like Grease?" Chelsea questioned, Elly turned and gave her a heart-warming smile. _

_"Yeah Els, like Grease."_

_The brunette scoffed and slid her sunglasses onto her head, feeling the warmth heat her cool eyelids. "Right, so basically I'm either stuck with losers, rejects or sluts that dig balls or engines?"_

_The two girls giggled and leaned up on their elbows, looking at eachother and smiling. "Well yeah, basically. But knowing you you'll somehow work your way around it."_

_"Maybe if I keep myself on the down low I'll survive this year with no troubles." Santana said, watching four boys run wrecklessly passed them and flicking dirty sand onto their towels._

_"I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN I'LL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER HAVE KIDS!" She shouted, waving her fist in the air._

_Elly and Chelsea turned to eachother, arching an eyebrow and smirking. The redheaded winked and returned to her lying position;_

_"Yeah, that definitely sounds like something _you'd_ be able to do Lopez."_

_Santana chuckled lightly in unison with her two best friends. "Shut up Carter."_

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><p>It was the first time she saw <em>her, <em>when she'd approached her locker for the school year. Santana was innocently standing by her metal cupboard and sorting through it, placing books her and there and light decorating it with a picture of her Chelsea and Elly. When she suddenly felt several bodies push up against her back, forcing her face basically inside the locker.

"What the fu-" Santana whispered, after turning to see the sea of people crowding the hall, split in two allowing two girls to walk down the centre with people gazing at them like they were celebrities. She craned her neck to watch what everyone else was and was startled by what she saw.

One of the girls was wearing her short blonde hair in a rough yet incredibly sexy style, with a 'head-bitch' face on. She had large hazel eyes that seemed to shoot down anyone that dare to look her in the eye, but there was an air of innocence surrounding the girl. Santana tilted her head to the side as she couldn't help but see the cross necklace hanging around her neck and laugh.

_Bet she's in Celibacy Club with a jock as her boyfriend._

As if on queue, a large, tanned jock walked up and threw his arm over the girl, smirking as everyone looked at them. It only took a few seconds of watching them to realise they were, or rather trying to be, the 'power couple'. However it confused the Latina as it dawned on her that she wasn't sporting a Cheerleading uniform which schools like this usually had.

Instead the short blonde was wearing a light blue summer dress, covered by a white cardigan that made her innocence beam even brighter. Tiny white pumps covered her feet and she almost cat-walked down the hall swimming with popularity as the students gaped at her.

And it only took a few more seconds to see the other girl, to see _her._ Santana's mouth automatically dropped as she turned her attention to the other blonde.

The Latina saw pale skin glow softy in the sunlight beaming in through the end window and blonde hair cascaded in loose ringlets. Clear blue eyes the colour of the Caribbean sea and a shy, but yet brilliantly beautiful smile that seemed to brighten the whole room pasted the strangers face.

As if Santana had called this mystery girls name, the breath-takingly beautiful orbs flickered up through dark eyelashes to meet Santana's mocha ones. The girl was absolutely stunning. Like jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Santana couldn't understand how one person could possess this much beauty and not be on the front of a magazine.

The girls hair was shiny and silky, tracing past her shoulders which were bare due to the thin straps of her grey Pineapple dance top that hung loosely off one shoulder. The blonde stood with a dancer's posture, and moved with a similar grace - as if she was gliding down the hallway instead of walking. Santana allowed her eyesight to roam down the never-ending, toned legs of the stranger which were shown through cut off jean short shorts and brown, calf-length cowboy boots.

The blue eyes shaded with something unrecognisable and what felt like hours later, but in reality seconds, Santana turned away to break their stare and focused back on her locker, fidding mindlessly with the items inside. She felt how weak her knees were, and the muscles jigging about nervously inside her tanned limbs. She felt how fast her heart was beating as the blonde's image was burning into her brain, imprinting itself for eternity.

_What the fuck was that?_

She thought to herself. Instead of dwelling on the thought, she quickly placed several books in her locker and turned on her heels, allowing her legs to carry her away from the breath-takingly beautiful blonde. The whole way she could feel a strange itch burning into the back of her brain, and she slid her hand over it, making sure she didn't have a gob of chewing gum in her hair or something - but there was nothing.

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><p>About two minutes later, she managed to find the Spanish room. It was pasted in spanish flags and decorated with a red and yellow decorum. The room even smelt like a god damn taco bar. Santana snorted and took a step in, immediately being greeted by a muscular thirty-something man who's hair made him look like his mode of transporation to school was the ocean.<p>

"Hello, you must be the new student. Santana Puckerman-Lopez?"

The Latina nodded and smiled weakly, glancing around the room to watch the students fill and take their seats.

"Just Santana Lopez." She corrected firmly.

Venom bubbled in the back of her throat at her double barrelled name which she could never seem to evade. It clung onto her being like a bad smell that couldn't be washed off with tons of shampoo and soap.

The man stood up from his seat, causing a scratch to form with the friction on the linoleum floor. He took a step towards the brunette and offered out his hand,

"I'm Mr Schuester. Your Spanish teacher and tutor."

"Thanks." She said whilst nodding greatfully. "Is there anywhere specific I should sit?"

The teacher started speaking but Santana couldn't focus on his words. She felt the familiar itch form in the back of her neck again and she whipped her head round to find the cause of it. Just as she did, she immediately locked eyesight with ridiculously gorgeous blue eyes. The Latina's heart inflated as the blondes lips curled up slightly at the side into a tiny smile. Santana's throat ran dry, and she gulped heavily, allowing the burn to slide down the oesophagus.

A flush crept across her face as the blonde tugged the corner of her lip between her teeth and fluttered her eyelashes, and Santana narrowed her eyes, whipping her head away from the eyesight. She turned back to the greasy-haired teacher who was gesturing with his hand towards a seat. The Latina followed his hand and spotted a seat at the back. She would've been glad if it wasn't for the occupant sitting next to the spare chair.

Grudgingly, Santana made her way through the tabels, seeing several heads turn and mutters things to their table partners as she passed.

"I heard she came from Arizona after her dad got lost in the desert."

"I heard she just came out of juvi after beating up some kid at her school. Real bloody."

"I heard that her dad is like some huge mafia boss and they had to move from the big apple 'cause they were in danger."

The Latina smirked at them, they all sounded ridiculous - however she couldn't ignore the genuine fear coating their faces and words as they examined her. She clutched her books tighter to her chest, dipping her head and chuckling lightly to herself when the same itch struck her again. But this time she could feel it on her face, so she raised it and gazed into brilliantly blue eyes.

Knowing how distracting those orbs could be, she dipped her head once more and slid round the desk to sit on the chair, scooting over to the edge of the table the furthest away from the blonde.

Santana could feel the same burn crawl against her temple and watched in her peripheral visionas the girl next to her twiddled with her hair, stealing a glance every now and then. The Latina couldn't believe how slow the time was going, everytime she looked up at the clock about four seconds had ticked by - and it'd felt like four hours.

She pushed aside her spanish essay, which was done within three minutes and started doodling mindlessly, when she saw a figure walk up to her desk. She glanced up to see the greaser-look-a-like teacher.

"Santana. How are you doing with your work?" He said, gesturing down to her work.

_Fuck. First day and I'm in trouble. Great. I really should pay more attention..._

Santana swallowed and looked down at her book, expecting to find random drawings. But instead she saw her perfectly written spanish essay sitting in front of her. She brushed her fingers at the corner, flicking it to see if her drawings were underneath, but no. Nothing.

"Ah you've finished." Mr Schuester said, leaning over and clutching the paper. He eyed it up for a couple of minutes, his eyes darting from side to side studying her work.

"Wow. Well done Santana. An A for you. Nice first impression." He murmured, scribbling roughly on the paper as it rested against his palm before leaving it to float down back to her desk. She searched his words for any sign of sarcasm, but when she found none, she shook her head in disbelief.

The brunette picked up the paper and narrowed her eyes to focus on the red circled 'A' painted on the top right hand corner of the page. "Uh- Thanks Mr Schue."

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><p>The teacher smiled and turned away, heading back towards her desk. She pushed the marked paper away and lifted up her books, trying to find her doodle page.<p>

"Where the fuck is it?" She hissed to herself, leaning over the desk to check underneath it. Her head was resting against the leg, and just under the protruding edge of the table.

"Looking for this?" A soft voice whispered. Santana's eyes widened and she jerked up, hitting her head on the corner as she did.

The Latina winced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut and she brought her hand up to rub the throbbing spot just behind her ear. "Ow."

Another hand made itself present as it brushed lightly over Santana's fingers."Are you okay?"

Santana jolted again, this time half-way off her seat. She could feel her heart pounding and the touch and her fingers shake. She cleared her throat and turned to look at the blonde girl beside her.

"Uh.. Yeah. Just hit my head a bit too hard, tender, so no touching." She murmured, internally scoffing at her lame attempt of a lie.

_What the fuck?_

The blonde crooked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes, almost like she was looking past the Latina's eyes and deep into her soul.

"Hm. Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"Uh- I dunno." She replied, shuffling back onto the centre of her chair as the girl next to her removed her hand, allowing it to fall gracefully through the air and land next to Santana's forearm.

The Latina was suddenly aware of how close their arms were, and flickered her stare down to her olive arm contrasting with the creamy skin of the unknown girl. She could feel her heart beat faster, her throat run drier and body feel hotter as the hairs on her arm raised with the electricity pulsing between their two limbs.

"I think you might need to." The blonde said, causing Santana to dart her gaze to the blue orbs which were still staring at her.

_What is up with this girl and staring?_

"Mr Schue!" The girl called, still gazing into the Latina's deep coffee orbs. "I need to take San to the nurses office. She's hit her head and I think she's conduced or something."

Santana's stomach flipped at the nickname the strange blonde had just given her. Usually if someone she'd just met had even given her an intrusive glance, she would've gone all New River Heights on them, let alone given her a nickname within twenty minutes of meeting each other.

"Concussed." Santana corrected, the only words that she could form whilst her brain raced.

The blonde grinned, revealing brilliantly white teeth and nodded. "Yeah. Concussed."

The Latina smiled in return, and darted her eyes towards Mr Schuester who was nodding. "Okay. She looks a bit pale anyway."

Santana immediately wanted a mirror, knowing what she looked like but didn't bother. The brunette stood, still clutching the back of her head and trying to conceal the throb when a soft palm grazed against her clothed bicep.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

The Latina stared incredulously at the blonde, wondering why someone she just met would want to look after her. The blue eyed beauty smiled hopefully at the brunette. But this time her smile seemed brighter, sweeter than she'd remembered. And her eyes, those beautiful cerulean orbs plagued her body - momentarily stunning Santana. She gulped in a large bubble of oxygen, trying to push down the hitch in her throat and blinked several times.

"Uh-"

"Do you start every sentence off with uh?" The blonde teased, chuckling lightly whilst biting her bottom lip between her teeth.

_Have I been doing that?_

The Latina smiled weakly in return, still not being able to say anything. Her eyebrows furrowed and the blonde crooked her head to the side. "Santana?"

"No thank you. And no. I don't start every sentence with 'uh'." She retorted, and she kicked herself internally at how short she'd just sounded.

She walked towards the nurses office, her mind racing and spinning with thoughts of this mysterious blonde who seemed to intrigue her, and she couldn't place a finger on what it was.

About twenty minutes and a pack of ice later, the nurse let Santana go and she swiftly slid into the Spanish room, gathering her books before heading off to her next class. Despite arguing with herself that she hadn't been, and wasn't, she couldn't suppress the disappointment that coursed through her body telling her she was upset that she hadn't seen the intruiging blonde for the rest of the day.

And that's how she spent the rest of the night, scribbling on her notepad and focusing on her homework, trying to push the mysterious beauty out of her head.

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><p><strong>Currently having trouble with another fic, and so I need a burst of inspiration from another fic, which apparently is this one. so.. yeah. hope you've had fun and please review!<strong>


	2. Meeting The Family

**Summary:** Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>What's more important? What we become, or how we become it?<br>**_**- Lucas Scott**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Two**

The next day at school hadn't been quite as exciting as the first. Once again Santana was at her lockers when the sea of people split and allowed the two blondes to walk down the hall. This time however, the tanned jock had his arm thrown around the taller blonde, and Santana couldn't fight the feeling of jealousy rippling through her body.

_You have no claim on her. Lock it down Lopez._

After briefly meeting with the beautiful blue orbs that captured her eye the day before, she slammed her locker shut and headed off to Math class. She met Miss Benoit, a 60 something year old teacher with faded blonde hair, probably due to crappy hair dye or a greying ginger locks. She was sat down next to a tiny brunette who'd immediately started to get on her nerves.

"Well hello Santana. I welcome you to McKinley High School. My name is Rachel Berry."

The Latina rolled her eyes and smiled weakly at the brunette; "Hi."

"You need not to worry about being judged by me Santana. I don't listen to any of those ridiculous stories that are currently flowing through the school about where you came from."

Santana furrowed her brows and dropped open her mouth, ready to speak when Rachel interjected;

"But don't worry Santana, I don't need to know. Nice to meet you." And she returned to her work.

The Latina faced forward once again, staring incredulously into space at how fast the tiny brunette had managed to spit out all of those words in such a short amount of time. Her mind boggled and instead of commenting on every part of her incredibly quick sentence, she smiled and spoke;

"I'm Santana, but you already know that. Nice to meet you too."

And that's how their friendship transpired.

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><p>The next couple of weeks were pretty uneventful. She'd gotten closer to Rachel Berry, who she learned was from Jewish decent and had the voice of an angel. And despite being annoying, she could tell they were basically already best friends.<p>

She'd also witnessed several people getting 'slushied', and decided it didn't exactly look like a lot of fun. So she stayed clear from the large, tanned jock sporting a McKinley varsity jacket and an evil smile which probably would've attracted most girls, but it kind of repulsed Santana.

The Latina had never believed in labels, and calling herself gay, straight or bisexual just made her feel like a can. So instead she just believed love is love, no matter what gender. However, she'd always felt more attracted to girls than guys, but it still didn't really matter all that much.

After a long day at school, she pulled up in her driveway, parking her matt black Jeep Wrangler and clambering out with all her books. As soon as the lock was in the door, it swung open and her little brother Luis wrapped his tiny arms around her legs. Instinctively, she bent down, throwing her books carelessly on the floor and scooping the tiny Latino in her arms, waving him around and causing him to giggle uncontrollably.

"Tana! Tana top!"

Santana chuckled and brought him closer to her chest, "Stop Luis, it's s-top."

"Top." He repeated innocently, grinning largely.

The Latina giggled and shook her head lightly, "Sure Luis."

She placed him back to the floor and picked up her books, watching him run back into the living room and playing with the blocks on the floor.

"Dad?" She called out, allowing her voice to bounce through every room. "Yo, Dad, I'm home."

The large Latino man walked out of the kitchen wearing a loose plaid shirt and ripped jeans, grease coating his tanned cheeks and his hands were basically blackened.

"Whoah? Working on the mustang are we?" She asked, hugging him cautiously to ensure no grease coated her clothes.

The older man laughed throatily, chucking his head back slightly. "Yeah hun."

Santana laughed back, jabbing him lightly in the arm. She really did love her dad, and seeing his face crumple at the announcement that the love of his life had slept and had a kid with someone else just broke her heart. In some ways, Santana thought that she resented her mother for doing that. She'd always been a daddies girl, had him wrapped around his little finger and treating him respectably instead of the classic spoilt-bitch-gonna-spend-all-my-daddies-money kinda daddies girl.

They'd formed a bond over cars, both of them learning together and growing their relationship from the love of the machines. Ever since her mother had died, Santana had made sure to spend quality time with him and Luis, considering she was pretty much the only female figure in their lives. It wasn't due to pity, but sometimes it did feel like it.

She'd tried to support her father as he started up a new garage within the few weeks they'd been here. It was named Mario's garage, which Santana had looked down upon due to the lack of creativity put behind the name - but it wasn't like it was hers so she didn't comment.

"You gon' help? Going to the garage for an hour or so, if you wanna come." He asked, whipping out the dirty rag from his back pocket and wiping his equally mucky hands on them. Probably in a weak attempt to clean his hands.

"I would papa, but I got some work to do."

Mario shoved the rag back in his pocket and took a step forward, placing his hand tentatively, which caused the Latina to widen her eyes and worry.

"Papa?" She questioned, flickering her gaze between his mucky hand and hid dark brown eyes, which had large, dark bags beneath them.

"I was at the garage the other day, looking for parts for the 'stang, and I ran into Benzino."

Santana's heart paused momentarily as she shrugged off his hand. The father of her half-brother was known to be a big shot in Lima. He'd gone to Northwestern to study business, left with a masters degree and started up his own company with the slogan 'Get lucky with Pucky'. Cringy, but effectively making Mario look like a piece of shit he'd stood on.

"And?" She questioned, shuffling her weight onto her left leg.

"I only recognised him from pictures, but when I talked to him I knew it was him. And as much dislike I felt towards the man, I told him everything and he agreed to allow you and your step brother too meet."

The Latina grimaced and clenched her jaw, "What?"

"Well, you've probably already met him. Noah Puckerman, he's in your grade and is on the football team. Quarterback."

Santana scanned through her head, trying to find the face to fit the name, but couldn't do so. "Um, nope."

"Well, anyway mija, we've arranged a meeting for all four of us at the local restaurant. Breadstix." Mario reasoned with a smile.

As much as Santana wanted to scream and shout, and remind her dad that she didn't want to be in Lima, let alone meet a guy who her mother decided to give birth too during a break-up with her father. So instead, she bit down on her tongue and tamed the venom bubbling in the back of her throat;

"Fine. When?" She hissed, trying to restrain the anger that clenched in her knuckles, causing her fists to ball by her sides.

"Tonight at 7." He called, throwing a look over his shoulder as he exited through the kitchen patio doors. Santana narrowed her eyes and inhaled heavily, forcing a smile at the older man as she turned away and headed for the staircase.

"But Mija?"

Santana whipped her head around, leaning over the banister to lock eyes with her father. "Si?"

"Be ready for 6:45, don't want to make a bad first impression."

The Latina forced another smile and trudged tiredly up the stairs, feeling her muscles clamping with each step. She really didn't want to do this.

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><p>Time passed by way to fast, within two and a half hours she'd showered, texted Rachel about the nights plans and finished her math and spanish homework. Within five minutes she'd dressed into a loose black shirt with a white tank top underneath and a short denim skirt with black leggings coming half-way down her calves, finished off by a brand new pair of black converses.<p>

They sat in the restaurant for about five minutes before two large tanned men walked in, one dressed in a grey pin-stripped suit and the other in the McKinley varsity football jacket. Santana instantly recognised the younger tanned man to be the guy who had been slushie-ing everyone.

"Mr Lopez." The older man said, shaking Mario's hand firmly.

"Mr Puckerman." Santana's dad replied.

"We meet again." Mr Puckerman retorted and smiling.

They sat down inside the booth, Santana next to her father and the other two opposite them. An awkward silence crept over them and was quickly interrupted by a young, ginger waiter who took their order.

"Noah, order. Now." Benzino said sharply, causing the younger tanned man to flinch slightly.

"Beer." Noah ordered, not bothering to look up from his fixation on the salt shaker in front of him. The older tanned man slapped his shoulder and he shot up, straightening out his back and sneering at Santana.

"Sorry father, beer _now_."

Benzino nodded firmly and mirrored the sneer on his son's face. "Good. Now, Santana? I believe it is. What would you like?"

Santana narrowed her eyes, examining the young tanned man and recognising a lonely boy. "Water, please."

"Shandy for me." Mario added, smiling at the waiter who turned away not seeing anything unusual.

The Latina studied the table again, glancing between Benzino and Noah who was currently hunched in the corner, his arms crossed over his broad chest which was sticking up, making it look larger than it should've been. She felt how proud her father was due to her manners, something the Puckermans obviously lacked and somehow she knew it was already giving her father some confidence.

"So, Santana. You're in the same grade as my boy here." Benzino said, slapping Noah on the back a little harder than needed.

"I am Sir." She replied, sipping on the water that'd been delivered to her table only seconds before.

"Call me Benzino. We are related after all, technically." He sneered, crooking his head to the right slightly.

Santana instantly knew she wasn't going to like this man and she glanced through dark eyelashes at him, then Noah, then to her father who had his head bowed.

"Technically. But not quite." She retorted, mimicking his obnoxious expression.

"Yes, yes. So, what are your hobbies then? My Puck here is the star quarterback for the football team and is currently dating one of the hottest cheerleaders in school."

Santana winced internally, knowing that her half-brother really did have more achievements than she did. "I'm into cars, build them and repair them with my dad. I work part-time at the garage sometimes, but yeah. I enjoy it."

Noah snorted and the Latina immediately narrowed her eyes at him. "Cars? But you're a girl."

The brunette smiled, "Wow, did it take you _that_ long to figure it out Geronimo?"

"Kinda hard when you act like a guy ninety percent of the time." He retorted angrily, whipping her off with a wave of his hand.

"Wow, didn't know it was asshole convention here tonight." She retorted.

Noah turned and leaned aggressively forward, "Didn't your _mom_ tell you? Oh, no wait."

Santana immmediately felt the punch impact her stomach, emotionally curling her over until she couldn't breathe. It took every ounce of strength she had not to cry.

"I would say the same to you, but y'know, you never had one."

"Actually I do J-Lo. Martina Rodriguez, you know, the best real estate agent around. Better than having the pathetic excuse you _used_ to call your mother. Lucky escape if you ask me, Puckerman's didn't have to deal with all the venerial diseases she carried going around town acting like Sharon fucking Stone and sleeping with everything in sight."

Santana bit the words down on her tongue and turned to her dad who was balling his fists at his sides and burning an imaginary hole into the tanned teens brain. "We're going home."

Benzino chuckled evilly and straightened his back, "Leaving so soon Mario? Shame. Good to know you still have one woman in your life that puts up with your shit."

The brunette scowled intently at the older suited man and slid out of the booth after her father who was already at the exit. "You know _nothing_ about my family."

Both of the muscular, tanned men fell into a fit of laughter, hammering their fists loudly against the table top to emphasise how funny they found her threat.

"We know more than you think." Benzio challenged, pasting a smug expression on his face.

The Latina curled her fists and scowled at the older tanned man. Despite the curiosity eating her alive inside at the statement, she just snarled at him and said "Just back off."

"Or you'll do what?" Noah challenged as he raised his eyebrows.

Santana just shook her head off, ignoring the anger pulsing through her veins and telling her to just attack the guy. Since she'd got in trouble back in New River for punching her best friend Elly's ex-boyfriend for staring at her tits at Prom, anger management had become part of her weekly routine.

"Fuck you Puckerman." She whispered, turning on her heels and chucking a five dollar bill on the table.

* * *

><p>She dropped her dad off home, watching his hunched figure as he stalked towards the house, allowing himself in past the red-headed babysitter.<p>

Santana had made plans with Rachel to go to her house, and stop by a local party hosted by someone in their grade, but the Latina hadn't bother asking who it was.

_At least it'll get your mind off things._

As soon as she pulled up outside Rachel's ridiculously large house, she marvelled at the structure and yelped as the small brunette hopped in the passenger seat unannounced, scaring the Latina.

"Sup Lopez." Rachel said in a faux-ghetto voice.

Santana gawped at her and let out a throaty laugh, before taking in her whole attire which consisted of a floor length, pale green dress that looked like she'd travelled back in time to the victorian era.

"Um, Rach? What the fuck are you wearing?"

The Jewish girl turned and did a once over on her outfit before staring up at the Latina with pouted lips and furrowed eyebrows. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's right with it? You look like you just raided Queen Victoria's closet and took the ugliest thing you could find in there." Santana answered, snickering to herself.

"I think it's cute."

"Yeahhhhh, no. Look, climb in the back and there's some clothes in a duffel bag in the boot. Change into them and burn _that_," The Latina punctuated the sentence with a point of her finger waving over the green dress, "While you're at it. Like seriously. I don't even want it in my car it's that bad."

Rachel cocked her head to the side and back again quickly with a scowl. "It's not that bad."

"Sure Berry."

"But don't perv on me while I'm getting changed." Rachel murmured, clambering over the centre console and into the back seat.

"Don't worry. You're not my type." Santana commented, smirking to herself.

"What, a girl?" Rachel muffled through the top.

The Latina shook her head and smiled to herself. "Nah, brunette."

* * *

><p>Half and hour later, and Santana was in the doorway of Mike Chang's house, well that's what the Latina thought his name was anyway.<p>

They pretty much stood out the second they entered the house. They were bombarded with what felt like, thousands of drunken teenagers sipping on identical red, plastic cups.

Rachel led Santana through the bodies and out onto the wooden balcony where two freshman were making out on the loveseat. Being Seniors, they pretty much had control over anyone younger than themselves, so when the couple saw Santana scowling at them, they jumped up and scurried back into the house.

"So, welcome to your first Senior party at McKinley. It's full of drunks, sluts and drunken sluts." Rachel said as she picked up a red plastic cup and sniffed it - wincing at the contents.

Santana laughed and turned her back against the railing, leaning her elbows against the top. "Yeah. "

An comfortable silence entered their conversation and Santana mentally argued with heself whether to ask about the girl that'd been plaguing her mind ever since the first day.

"So what's the deal with those two blondes that act like Moses?" Santana scoffed, trying not to sound too obvious.

"What? Quinn and Brittany?"

Santana nodded, not knowing which name belonged with the beautiful blue eyed blonde. "Yeah, I guess that's their names."

"They've been like that since Freshman year. I don't really know what it was, they just had that quality, you know? That made them like instantly popular. I guess it was them being undeniably attractive and slightly bitchy. Within a few weeks of being at school, they were top dogs and stayed that way ever since."

The Latina nodded along, listening intently to every word escaping the smaller brunettes mouth. She turned and watched Rachel as she picked with the hem of her sleeve, looking out into the distance with a narrowed expression.

"What's that look for?" Santana asked.

The Jewish girl shook her head and smiled, "Nothing. I don't know much about them apart from the rumours. Quinn is the shorter of the two, and has hooked up with most of the cute jocks around - but rumour has it she swings both ways. She pretty much went through most of the good looking guys within two years, and during Junior year, she started dating the hottest girls who could pass for being popular."

The Latina frowned and crooked her head to the side. _Apparently appearances are deceptive_ she thought as she reminisced over her first judgement of the shorter blonde which was of Quinn being innocent.

"Then there's Brittany."

Santana perked her head up, as if it would help.

"Brittany." She breathed, not realising she'd repeated it out loud. Rachel gave her a quick smile and carried on;

"Yeah. So Brittany's pretty much the sun of the school. Like was like always smiling, and always ridiculously happy. But then she started dating Puck."

Santana's chest swelled with anger, and her nostrils flared at the information. _Great, she's dating my half-brother who's also the biggest ass in the world._ "Right?"

"I don't really know much about her. She keeps to herself most of the time. All I know is that she's been dating Noah for about six months, and according to rumours she's kept the sex just for him." Rachel continued as she pushed off the railing and

"Her and Quinn are like BFF's and have been ever since the first day of Freshman year."

Santana just nodded at the information, not wanting to seem too interested in the information.

"But I saw Puck with his arm around Quinn?" Santana said, remembering the first sighting of the two blondes.

"Yeah, he does that. Apparently he's been wanting to get with Quinn for a while."

"And Brittany puts up with that?" The Latina asked in a slightly angrier tone than intended.

"Yeah." Rachel responded, twisting the now empty cup in her hands.

"She could do _so_ much better."

The Jewish girl crooked her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows at the Latina who realised what she'd just said, whose cheeks had flushed red with embarrasment.

"Oh really? Like who?"

Before the Latina could answer, Quinn stumbled through the doors clutching two red plastic cups and giggling hysterically, almost falling over. Santana on instinct stretched forward and placed her hands on the blondes hip to steady the girl who was clearly off her face.

"Whoah, hey there. You're gonna hurt yourself if you're not careful." Santana said, smiling at the blonde who was obviously trying to focus on her.

"And you wouldn't want that to happen would you new girl?" Quinn said flirtaciously.

"What's your name?" She followed with, placing one cup down to balance on the railing and completely ignoring Rachel who was standing behind the Latina.

"Santana. And you are?" She asked, raising one eyebrow and pretending not to know who Quinn was.

Quinn crooked her head and stared at the olive skinned beauty who's half-smirking, half-smiling. "Quinn Fabray. You don't know who I am?"

"Should I?" Santana challenged, slipping her hands from the blondes waist and hanging them by her side.

The blonde took a step forward and pushed Santana back up against the railing, which was only about a metre away as Rachel moved out the way and slipped back into the house. She placed the other cup on the side of the Latina and leaned in so their faces were only inches away from each other.

"Yeah, you should. But I know what you're playing at Lopez."

Santana quirked her eyebrow, "Ah, so you _do_ know who _I_ am then."

Quinn narrowed her eyes, realising her mistake and smirked, running a pink tongue over her lips. A flush crawled across her cheeks and Santana took this opportunity to turn the tables, pushing on the blondes body back against the railing and placing her arms either side of Quinn.

"Apparently so." Quinn answered after a few seconds.

Dark brown eyes swirled with hazel ones and for a few seconds, Santana was sure Quinn was going to lean forward and kiss her. Hot breaths were tickling each others faces and the blonde bit down on her bottom lip seductively. The Latina couldn't help but find the girl in front of her undeniably attractive, high cheekbones, stunning hazel eyes and sumptuous lips which caused the brunette too run her tongue over her own lips and gulp loudly.

Quinn smiled and leaned in just the tiniest bit, but instead of their lips meeting, a click on the door interrupted their intimate moment and Santana pulled away, casually leaning against the railing space next to the blonde as if nothing had happened. She glanced up at the door to stare into bright blue eyes which were staring back at her.

"Oh, um, sorry Q." Brittany said, fiddling with her fingers awkwardly.

Quinn straightened up and cleared her throat, smiling flirtaciously at the Latina before turning back to her friend, "It's cool. Just getting to know Santana here."

"How's your head San?" The taller blonde asked, smiling sweetly at the brunette and completely ignoring her best friend.

Quinn furrowed her brows and darted her gaze between the blonde and brunette who seemed to be locked in a strangely intense stare.

"It's good thanks Britt. Thanks for asking."

"No problem." Brittany replied, licking her lips and dipping her head.

Santana mimicked the movement and both of them flickered their eyes up through dark lashes to catch each other in an comfortable stare, which elicited grins from both the girls, accompanied by a flush on their cheeks.

"Uh hum." Quinn cleared her throat, obviously trying to make her presence known.

Santana looks up just in time to see a glimmer of what she recognised to be jealousy in Quinn's hazel eyes before the girl started speaking.

"So, Britt, what did you want? You kinda interrupted something."

"Just wondered where you were. Puck hasn't come yet and I was dancing alone." Brittany said innocently, darting her gaze between dark coffee orbs and golden-green ones.

"You dance?" Santana interjected, pushing off the railing and shuffling her weight onto her right leg.

The Latina felt her heart beating eratically, something about Brittany just had this effect on her. It was as if Quinn wasn't there, and it would've definitely felt like that if it wasn't for the shorter blondes convenient coughs that were timed perfectly, preventing Santana from staring deeper into the bright blue eyes and reading the taller blonde.

Brittany smiled, flickering between the shorter blonde that'd just coughed and back at the Latina, "I do."

"Well now that's all cleared up. Santana, would you like to get a drink with me?" Quinn interrupted, reaching out to grab the Latina's hand.

Santana didn't take her eyes off Brittany as she nodded, and allowed Quinn to lace their fingers together. The Latina watched the dancer flicker her eyesight down to their hands and back up to meet dark brown orbs.

"Let's go." Quinn added, noticing the glare and dragged Santana back into the party.

Brittany smiled sadly and nodded at the Latina, who returned the sad smile. "I'll see you later, yeah Britt?"

"Yeah San. See you later." The dancer responded as the door shut, ending the locked gaze by closing the door.

Santana allowed herself to be dragged through the bodies, latched onto one of the hottest and most popular girls in the school. She suddenly had the urge to return to the balcony and continue talking to the beautiful, dancing blonde.

But just as she went to tug on Quinn's hand, asking for release - she watched Puckerman enter the house, who snarled subtley at the Latina and grabbed Brittany by the waist as she re-entered the crowded front room.

As the tall, tanned man pulled the dancer in close, Brittany looked across the room and locked with dark mocha orbs that were staring back at her.

_Yes. This year, was going to be incredibly interesting._

* * *

><p><strong>Please tell me how I'm doing!<strong>

**Thank you guys and please review!**


	3. Pouring Your Heart Out

**Taking a quick break from And They Say Reading Is Good For You as I pretty much spat out two chapters in the space of a day.**

**The weekend is coming up though so maybe, just maybe you'll get the final update of it!**

**But anyway, back to this story - I think it's progressing well, and anyone that's seen OTH can detect the parallels between this and the pilot episode. I won't be following the _exact_ storyline, but I may steal a few bits from it!**

**Hope you enjoy guys!**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

* * *

><p><em><strong>You can't help who you love, you're not supposed too.<br>**_**- Unknown**

* * *

><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Three**

Three days later, the sky was cloudless and beautifully blue, the air was warm and yet still crisp and the sun was shining gloriously upon God's spherical creation.

Santana was lying in the bed of her truck in Schoonover Park, her back pressed against the heated metal with aviators protecting her dark mocha eyes as she locked with the beamingly beautiful sky. Her body was covered by a thin, white tank top and jean cut-off short shorts.

It was kind of cliche, but it was such a beautiful damn day that even the bloody birds were chirping loudly as they perched on the nearby trees. The radio was playing one of Santana's favourite songs, _Love At First Sight_ by Mary J. Blige.

_Lookin' at you from a distance,  
>Getting all my attention<br>Could this be love at first sight, baby  
>You walked away and I missed you,<br>Visions of wanting to kiss you,  
>How could this be if I don't really know you?<em>

The Latina's voice was raspy as she realised how parched she was. But a quick swig of water sorted that and she carried on singing.

_Could it be love at first sight?  
>And I never knew that I, could fall in love on the very first night,<br>Could this be love?_

Her foot tapped against the metal of the truck repeatedly as the radio continued to play, unfortunately she didn't get the relaxation session she hoped as her phone started buzzing. She flipped it open to reveal 'Work' on the LCD screen.

"Hello?"

"Mija, it's your papa. We got a call from a young girl with a broken down car just off Lost Creek Reservoir. You've got the truck so your call."

Santana sighed heavily and suddenly resented the fact she'd taken the truck. She only wanted it to use the bed of the truck to relax in the summer sun, but it also meant she was on shift.

"Si papa, I'll leave now."

"Gracias San, don't be too long."

"I won't." Santana finished, shutting the phone after recieving a few details from her father. She jumped off the bed of the truck and into the drivers seat, and with a flick of her hand she started the engine and started heading down Route 75.

It was only minutes later that she turned onto Reservoir Road and was craning her neck to search around the roads for the pale blue, convertible Mercedes. After travelling around the roads for a bit, she pulled into a desolate dirt track which led down to a tiny lake just off of Roush Road.

As expected, a baby blue Mercedes sat on the edge of the lake, with a blonde hunched over on the bonnet, staring into the blueness of the water. She turned her head at the sound of the trucks engine and Santana met bright blue eyes.

"Hi." She called as she got out the cab of her truck.

"Hey." Brittany answered, unfolding her arms and hopping off the bonnet and walking towards the Latina.

She eyed the brunette up and down, examining the greased rag that hung out of the side of Santana's jean cut off short shorts and smirked. The Latina noticed and did the exact same thing to Brittany, taking in her attire consisting of a tiny black skirt and grey tank top. She couldn't help but notice how ridiculously long and attractive Brittany's legs were, they like went on forever and almost caused Santana to drool.

"So what's wrong with the Merc?" The Latina said, realising her gawping and brushing passed the blonde.

"I don't know, I was driving and pretty sure something got sucked up from underneath because it kinda just conked out." Brittany shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek as her jaws hardened at the memory..

The brunette could feel how tense and pissed off the blonde was, the furrowed eyebrows were another give away. Santana smiled and grabbed the creeper from the bed of the truck, as well as a jackstand and spanner.

She quickly set the stand up, allowing the car to hover as she climbed onto the creeper and slid underneath the car. Brittany watched her with awe and she disappeared underneath the car, just behind the wheel so she could get a quick view of the engine.

She whipped out the spanner and fiddled with the underneath, before spotting the problem. As she slid out, she was suddenly very aware of the bright blue eyes fixated on the gap showing between her short shorts and tank top, which revealed her taut stomach.

The Latina cleared her throat, "Found the problem. It's your timing chain and fan belt, looks like a couple of rocks have lodged themselves pretty tight in there."

Brittany jumped and licked her lips before looking up the Latina's body to meet her dark brown orbs, "Oh. Is there anything you can do about it?"

"Um I'm not sure, I'll give it a go though. Let me just go get some more tools." She said as she pushed herself up from the creeper and headed back to her truck.

Brittany gave Santana a quick as she glanced up from her phone momentarily, but returned just as quickly. "Do you know how long it'll take?"

Santana shook her head, "Nah, I'm not sure I can definitely fix it here, but I'll try."

As the brunette grabbed some of the tools, she watched Brittany, out the corner of her eye, frown and then dial a number into her phone. She bit on a nail as she awaited an answer and the Latina could see annoyance shade behind her cerulean orbs.

"Hey, sorry I'm gonna be late. The mechanic got here and she's working on the car now."

Santana pretended like she wasn't eavesdropping and returned to the creeper, where she slid underneath and started loosening the bolt to the timing chain. She internally winced at the title she'd been given, _the mechanic_ but tried to ignore it.

"Yes, _she._ Women can do that you know Puckerman. Look is there any chance you can come get me? The mechanic said she's not sure if she can fix it here."

The brunette immediately scowled, _of course, she's talking to her boyfriend, Puckerman. _She ranted in her head about how much of a douchebag her half-brother was when she heard the blonde exhale heavily.

"Why? Puck come on. It's not like you're doing anything."

The Latina furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lip, but carried on fixing the engine. Her hands worked at fixing the problem, but her mind was completely focused on listening to the blondes phone conversation. Luckily for her, from the ribcage upwards she was covered by the car, otherwise Brittany probably would be able to see the concentration on her face as she eavesdropped.

"Because I called you about half an hour ago saying I'd just broken down and you said you were freely practising football with Azimio, that's why."

Santana couldn't help but chuckle internally at how non-threatening the blonde sounded, when obviously she was trying to be.

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do? It's only gonna take you like ten minutes. Can't you just-"

She laughed quietly, not being able to restrain it any longer and she felt the pair of bright blue eyes pierce her skin as they questioned her giggle. She didn't even know Brittany, but she knew how out of place cursing sounded when it came from the blondes mouth. Santana listened as a muffled yell came out from the reciever and Brittany's face fell completely.

"Fine. Fuck you Noah. You can sleep _alone_ tonight."

* * *

><p>Santana waited a few moments as she watched the never ending legs belonging to the blonde pace up and down the length of the car in annoyance. She was momentarily stunned, but then realised her situation and came to the conclusion she couldn't fix the car here.<p>

"Uh, Miss Pierce?" Santana called, using the formal address as she technically was at work.

She slid out and winced at the sunlight penetrating her corneas, but then focused on the blonde who had her back turned, looking out onto the lake.

"What?" Brittany snapped, turning to look into empty air and then back down to the Latina who had both eyebrows raised.

"I doubt I'll be able to fix your car here." The Latina said wearily, nervously looking around in case the blonde snapped at her again. "But I can give you a lift to wherever you need."

Brittany's face softened and she smiled sweetly at the brunette, "You don't have too."

"All part of the service Miss Pierce." Santana answered quickly, packing up her toolkit.

"Why are you calling me Miss Pierce? You know my name."

Santana looked up from her crouched position next to the creeper, "I'm on a shift. Need to be formal."

"It's not like we've never talked before San." Brittany replied, raising one eyebrow.

"I know. But we've never had a conversation when I'm on trying to fix your car."

The blonde studied Santana for a moment with an expressionless face, but then morphed it into a large grin which caused the Latina's stomach to flip and heart to flutter. "Just call me Brittany, Lopez."

"Will do Britt." Santana retorted, giving the blonde a quick smile as she picked up the creeper and placed it in the cramped backseat of the truck. She fiddled around, grabbing a clean rag and the clipboard with all the necessary papers attached when a voice startled her;

"Not much room in here." Brittany said, peering into the truck.

Santana flinched slightly and turned to see the blonde standing closer than necessary. Her breath hitched in her throat and she stared deeply into Brittany's distractingly beautiful azure orbs.

"Uh- yeah. Well usually we don't need to use the backseat."

The blonde crooked an eyebrow, "We?"

"Yeah. Work. Garage. Mechanics." Santana spluttered out, feeling the blondes sweet breath impact her face.

Everything suddenly started to heat up as the brunette could feel the sweat forming on her forehead, she wiped it away instinctively and cleared her throat.

Brittany grinned once again and smoothed out her eyebrows into a relaxed expression. Santana took this opportunity to brush past the dancer and started attaching the right clips and hooks to the front of the Mercedes, ready to toe it.

"So how much is this gonna cost me?" Brittany asked, crooking her head to the side as she hopped up onto the bonnet in front of Santana, who was crouched in front of her.

The Latina looked up and was instantly greeted by tanned, toned legs that seemed to never end. She trailed her sight up the blondes dancing physique until she met a deep blue glare. Santana felt her abdomen clench as she tore her gaze away, shaking herself out of the momentary trance and tried to focus on the question. "Free call-"

Brittany's phone started buzzing and she smiled apologetically at the Latina before answering. "Hello?"

Santana heard the deep, muffled voice speak down the end, "Stop yelling at me Noah."

"I only said fuck you because you were pissing me off, and frankly you still are! No I don't need a lift. Goodbye."

The Latina flinched at the sudden outburst. She glanced upwards to see Brittany staring angrily at her phone, and then chuck it as far as she could, where it eventually ended up landing in the lake with a 'plop'. She hopped off the bonnet and stood with her hands balled up by her sides about two metres away from the car.

"Fucking guys!" She yelled, and Santana looked around with a tiny smile pasted on her face. "I swear to fucking God they're all just wankers!"

Brittany ran her hands through her loose, wavy, blonde locks and clenched her fist. "Jesus Christ!"

Santana chuckled at the blondes attempt of being angry, which caused her to whipped her head around and stare at the brunette, "What are you laughing at?"

"You just seem to put up with more than you should." The Latina reasoned, shrugging as she walked to the bed of her truck. She grabbed the miniature crane control and pressed the green button, watching as it dragged the car up so the front wheels were balancing safely on the bed. "With _him_."

Brittany moved her jaw sidewards, and narrowed her eyes as if she was running her tongue along her teeth. "And how is that funny?"

"Because you deserve better." Santana replied quickly, locking stare with bright blue eyes.

The blonde's face fell into a sad, yet disbelieving expression and she walked towards the Latina, crossing her arms and resting her back against the door of the backseat. She leant the back of her head against the glass and rolled it to look at Santana. "I love him, and I know he loves me. He's just..."

"A prick?" Santana questioned.

She had no idea where this was coming from, she'd known this girl for a few weeks and up until now, they'd barely had a full blown conversation which didn't involve the Latina being pulled away or walking away.

"You don't know him." Brittany scowled, causing the Latina to flinch. She wasn't used to seeing the dancer in such a bad mood and it surprised it.

"I know more than you think." Santana challenged, handing the blonde the clipboard and pen.

The blonde narrowed her eyes and pasted a curious expression onto her face. She studied Santana for a bit, and suddenly the Latina became very self-concious. "Sure you do."

"You don't have to believe me." Santana replied, and then a silence joined their conversation. "So do you need a lift or what? If you've got one I can wait here, if you want."

Brittany scribbled on the clipboard and clicked her tongue, "Yeah. That's _what I want_." She replied sarcastically.

"Just have your dad call me with an estimate, and I have a ride thanks."

Santana narrowed her eyes and examined the blonde for a moment, detecting the lie. But instead of calling her up on it she nodded in defeat. "Sure Miss Pierce."

"Bri-" The blonde started to correct the Latina, but then shut her mouth as she saw Santana's smirk. "Thanks."

The brunette smiled weakly, and chucked the clipboard in through the open passenger seat window. She turned and watched the blonde walk away and perch on a tree stump just beside the river and place her head in her hands.

"You know, it's a pretty long walk back to town." Santana started, and Brittany looked up to stare at her.

"And seeing as you don't have a car, or a phone for that matter, " Santana nudged her head in the direction of the lake, which only earned a scowl from the dancer, "You might wanna reconsider getting a lift because you don't seem like the walking type."

"You don't know me." Brittany deadpanned, turning her head back to focus on the water as it flimmered in the sunlight. Santana laughed and leant her bum against the boot of the Mercedes.

"God! Why are guys such assholes!" Brittany half-yelled as she stood up and placed her hands on her head.

Santana looked her and shrugged, not quite sure whether to be offended at the fact Brittany may have just reffered to her as a guy.

"Guys or Puck?" The brunette challenged, causing the blonde to drop her hands and stare incredulously at the mechanic.

"Guys." Brittany replied.

"Uh huh." Santana said as she palmed the hot metal and leant back.

"What do you have against Puck anyway?" The dancer asked, shoving her hands into the pockets on the short black shirt.

Santana shrugged and clenched her jaw, not really wanting to have this conversation with someone who was practically a stranger.

"You don't have to tell me, I know I'm basically a stranger and you don't seem like you want to be having this conversation."

The Latina twisted her head back and fourth twice, mentally questioning whether Brittany could be a mind reader. "We're kind of related. We share the same mom."

"Yeah I heard." The blonde replied, scuffing her converse against the dirt on the floor, causing a cloud to form around her shoe. "He's kind of an ass. Must suck for your dad."

Santana chuckled and inhaled, "You could say that. But I'm pretty sure his wife dying sucked alot more."

Brittany frowned and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "Sorry to hear about that."

"Yeah. It was tough for my dad, but I was there for him, as well as Luis." The brunette said, looking down on the floor, but she could feel the blonde furrow in confusion at the new name.

"Luis is my brother." Santana added, smiling weakly as she clenched tighter on the edge of the metal wheel rim.

"Oh, how old?"

"Six."

Brittany raised her eyebrows, "Oh wow. So how old were you when..."

The Latina could hear the _your mom died_ added silently into the end of the sentence, "Well, Luis had just turned one, and he's six now, so five years ago. We grieved for two years before my dad decided he wanted to know about her will, and when he asked they had to dig it up. Took them long enough and now, three years later, here we are. It was hard for my dad, but I know that I've gotta be strong for him and Luis. It's alot of pressure but I've always been the rock."

"Must be hard. Having people lean on you and not having anyone for you to lean on."

The Latina inhaled quickly, mulling over Brittany's words when she realised she was practically pouring her heart out to a stranger. She pushed up off the car and turned to the blonde.

"Look do you need a ride or not?" Santana asked angrily, a reaction of her defence mechanism snapping into action.

_Yeah, be aggressive. That's gonna help._

She walked towards the truck, and heard the graceful footsteps of the blonde following her.

"Why'd you tell me all that?" Brittany asked, "I mean we don't even know each other."

Santana slowed to a stop when she reached the passenger door and leant on the handle, with the other hand shoved deep into her pocket. She turned to look at Brittany who was staring at her quizzically.

"Or is that the point?" Brittany added, raising an eyebrow.

The Latina opened the door and held it, awaiting the dancer to climb in. When she didn't reply, Brittany shook her head and climbed into the passenger seat silently.

* * *

><p>It only took about twenty minutes to reach Brittany's house. It would've taken less time if it wasn't for the blonde forgetting where she lived.<p>

"Stop here." Brittany commanded as they pulled up outside her house.

Santana's eyed widened as she took in the aesthetics of the mansion. There were giant romanical columns either side of the wide, heavy wooden doors and a greek roof, with curls at the side in a slightly Japanese style. The house looked like a time machine had gone through every era and spat out a part, effectively designing the house in front of her. As much as it looked out of place in comparison to the rest of the houses, it still somehow managed to be the best looking one, and largest for that matter.

"Thanks for the ride San." Brittany said as she slammed the door shut, slightly louder than necessary.

The Latina watched the blonde walk, no wait, _glide_ with a dancers grace down the pavement as her tiny black skirt swung from side to side - accentuating the length of her amazingly toned legs. She continued to stare as Brittany entered the house, and Santana could've sworn she saw the dancer smirk as she subtley flickered her gaze over the shoulder to see the brunette still staring.

A heavy bang on the passenger door awoke her from her trance, and when she focused, she was met with narrowed hazely brown eyes.

"What are you doing here Lopez?" Puck growled, clenching his fists around the opened window.

"Dropping Brittany off." Santana replied with a smirk. "You?"

"Seeing _my_ girlfriend." He retorted, clenching his jaw.

Santana's insides twisted with jealousy, but she mimicked his jaw clench as narrowed her eyes, "Thought you were with Azimio?"

Puck widened his eyes and Santana knew that overhearing Brittany's conversation and pretending she'd been bitching about him to her was much more satisfying than scowling in reply.

"Nope. Left him. Now scoot, Brittany's waiting for me and she doesn't wanna open the door to you sitting here _perving_ on her." Puck said, releasing his grip and straightening his posture.

Santana clenched her jaw further, until the point she could feel her teeth grinding together with anger. She tightened her fists so her knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel. She switched on the engine and revved it loudly, "Asshole."

She pulled away when she Puck slammed his fist hard on the bonnet of the truck, "Oh, by the way? My dad's looking for some scrap metal to crush, so when you're done with this shit heap you call a car car - just give me a ring."

The Latina smiled sarcastically and put the car into reverse, revving loudly before jolting backwards and colliding with Pucks black Escalade.

"What the fuck! You crazy bitch!" He yelled as Santana pulled away to reveal a large dent in the front.

"Whoops." She said innocently, tilting her head and smiling sweetly.

A giggle caused her to whip her head around and she locked eyes with bright blue orbs connected to a grinning face. Santana smiled back, and Brittany mouthed _thank you_, before the brunette pulled off and sped down the road, almost toppling over in laughter as she checked in the rearview mirror at Puck with his head on his hands, angrily examining the damage to his car.

* * *

><p>"SANTANA CATALINA MARIE LOPEZ!"<p>

Mario yelled as the Latina entered the garage the following day. She widened her eyes and tried to steathily back out by lifting her feet silently.

"DON'T YOU DARE PRETEND LIKE YOU DIDN'T JUST COME IN! I HAD THE BELL INSTALLED FOR A REASON!"

She exhaled and walked further into the garage, where she was met with a red-faced version of her father. If they were in a cartoon, Santana would've sworn he could've had steam blowing out his ears.

"Papi, let me explain..." She started, fiddling with the keys in her right hand.

"You rammed into his car! Noah Puckermans car! Do you know how much that's gonna cost!" He yelled, shoving a piece of paper into her hands.

She examined it and found it was a hand written letter from Benzino telling her dad about the trucks run in with Noah's Escalade. As if this didn't rub it in enough, the piece of paper turned out to be an expensive sheet of parchment with Benzino's business' logo printed in the top right hand corner.

"Look papi, it was an accident." Santana tried to reason.

"An accident! You 'accidently' put the truck into reverse and 'accidently' happened to completely fucking miss the huge 4x4 parked behind you!" Mario yelled, raising his hands into the air and slamming them down in anger.

The Latina shuffled her weight onto her right leg and opened her mouth when the bell on the garage entrance rang. They both turned to see a blonde standing sweetly in the door, sporting a red and white Cheerios outfit.

"We'll finish this late mija." Mario said as he jutted his chin out towards the blonde. Santana nodded and turned around to face the girl.

"Quinn?" She said, silently questioning the blondes unexpected arrival.

"Hey."

Santana darted her gaze from side to side, "Um, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just coming back from Cheerios practice and saw you come in. Thought I'd say hello." Quinn said innocently, swaying slightly and allowing the pleats to flow in and out against her thighs which momentarily distracted the Latina.

Santana cleared her throat, "Oh, well hey." She said as she shoved both hands in her pockets and rocked onto the balls of her feet awkwardly.

Quinn smiled and took a step forward until she was within a metre of the Latina. "Actually, that's a lie. Well, not the practice part, but the hello part."

The Latina raised an eyebrow, "Oh, right. Then what is the reason?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Brett Lucipher's party with me." Quinn asked as she took another step forward and played with the hem of Santana's plaid shirt, "You know, like a date."

Santana allowed one corner of her mouth to tilt into a half-smile as she looked into hazel eyes. "A date?"

Quinn nodded and bit down on her bottom lip, "Yeah, if you want."

"Sure. That'd be nice." Santana replied as the blonde brushed her fingertip against the tanned, taut flesh underneath the shirt. The touch had pretty much made her decision for her, but it wasn't out of wanting the blonde in front of her, it was out of not being touched like that in about seven months.

"Good, pick me up at 7?"

The Latina furrowed her eyebrows, "Tonight?"

Quinn nodded, "Yep. Tonight."

"Cool. I'll um, see you later then." Santana replied, afer being momentarily distracted by the big, hazel eyes staring up at her.

Quinn grinned seductively and leaned in, brushing her lips gently against the Latina's ear. "Can't wait."

And with a whip of her skirt against Santana's jean cladded-thighs, she exited with a little more swing in her walk than she'd entered with.

_Did I just agree to go on a date with the second hottest girl in school?_

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><p><strong>Tell me how I'm doing please? Review!<strong>


	4. The Wrong One

**Thank you for all your reviews! **

**And too the anonymous who said this is more of a Quinntana fic, I wouldn't say it was Brittana unless it was, and considering I've only had three chapters, it may seem like that at the moment.**

**But I promise all you guys! This is a Brittana fic! Brittana is and always will be endgame!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are.<strong>_

**- Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Four**

It was rolling on to 5 o'clock when Rachel dropped by the garage. She stepped inside, wincing at the sweat, metal and grease smell that filled the room and Santana couldn't help but laugh. She stood up, after placing the spanner on the floor next to her and stretched her arms above her head.

She was wearing her mechanic overalls which were dark navy, but it was too hot to wear them the proper way, so it was tied loosely around her waist over the white, grease smudged tank top she was wearing. The Latina grabbed the nearest rag, wiping the black marks off her hand as she observed Rachel stepping lightly over random splotches on the cement, as well as car parts and all other sorts of things with a disgusted expression pasted on her face.

"Hey Rach." Santana said, smiling as the smaller girl lifted up the edges of her dress to make sure it didn't get dirty.

The Jewish girl looked up and widened her eyes at Santana's 'work' appearance which consisted of her beautiful olive skin covered by grease and dark smudges.

"You know, I don't really get why you look surprised when you see what I look like. It's like you think fixing cars is a clean job." Santana teased, laughing throatily.

Rachel cocked her head to the side and back again in a _shut up_ motion. "Well it's just a... different look for you, that's all Santana."

"Whatever Berry." The taller brunette replied, throwing down the rag and walking over to the side table where the fridge stood. "Want one?"

Rachel eyed up the glass fridge, smudged with black marks and shook her head. "No thank you."

Santana raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "It's on the outside Rach, but whatever."

"So are you going to Brett's party tonight?" Rachel said as she walked over to a chair sitting idley next to Santana, who was leaning her butt against the counter.

The Jewish girl raised her upper lip in disgust and wiped away the chair, making sure it was clean before she took a seat.

Santana shook her head in disbelief and nodded. "Yeah, you?"

"Oh dear God no. I would never put myself through something like that. With all the heated, sweaty bodies pressing against each other and jocks laughing at a label resounding the word 'penis', I think I'm gonna have a better time studying at home." Rachel replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. Studying sounds _super awesome._" Santana teased, punching her fist in the air. "Quinn invited me."

Rachel widened her eyes and her mouth dropped, "What!"

Santana furrowed her brows once and returned them to a blank expression, "Quinn invited me."

"YOU'RE GOING TO THE PARTY WITH QUINN FABRAY AS YOUR DATE!" Rachel yelled, standing up from her chair.

The Latina chuckled, and watched as the Jewish girls face fell into an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you."

"Disturb me?" Santana questioned.

She suddenly noticed Rachels stare wasn't actually directed at her, it was over her shoulder. She turned and was immediately greeted with bright blue orbs, shaded with something Santana unrecognisable.

"Won't happen again." The smaller brunette added, smiling weakly at the blonde who was standing at the garage door opening a few metres from the two girls.

Santana marvelled at how amazing the blonde look, it was obvious Brittany was out for a jog as her hair was tied up messily into a ponytail, and she was wearing a purple sports bra with tiny black short shorts. The Latina allowed her glance to follow down the tanned, never-ending legs of the dancer and back up the toned abs positioned below Brittany's full breasts.

She then looked up back into deep blue eyes that were boring a hole into her own coffee ones and they suddenly locked into an intense glare. Santana could've sworn she could see jealously shading those firery blue eyes, but Brittany blinked at it'd disappeared as if she'd noticed it herself.

It was as if no-one else was around, and what felt like minutes, turned out to be seconds as a deep voice called Brittany's name, and called her on. Santana craned her neck and followed the blondes eyesight which was locked on Puck who was about four metres in front of her with no top on and white basketball shorts.

He was nicely built, large pecks and arms thickened with muscles. He narrowed his eyes as soon as he spotted Santana and flared his nostrils.

"Come on Britt. We don't have all day." He yelled, still locked on the Latina who was narrowing her eyes back at him.

Santana flickered her gaze back to Brittany who was already staring at her with an unreadable expression. They stared at eachother for a few long seconds before Brittany turned back to her boyfriend;

"Coming Noah." She said, taking off in a slow jog and catching up to Puck who was still glaring at Santana.

As soon as the couple were out of sight Rachel cleared her throat and Santana was pulled back into the room as she turned to the Latina.

"What the hell was that?" She questioned, staring up at the Latina who looked completely inebriated with anger.

Santana flinched internally and shook herself out the daze. She turned back to Rachel who's eyebrow was cocked, "Nothing."

"Sure didn't look like no-" The Jewish girl started, Santana whipped her head back to her and scowled at her.

"Seriously, it was nothing." The Latina said, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.

Rachel studied her for a minute, but then decided she wasn't going to ask out loud and shook her head.

"Okay. Well I gotta get going anyway. Have fun tonight, yeah?" She said with a wink.

Santana giggled, "Whatever Berry. See ya."

* * *

><p>It was 6:15 when Santana left the garage, locking up and securing the alarm system. She'd questioned the need of having an alarm considering how small and un-badass Lima was, but her dad had insisted.<p>

She locked up the rescue truck and put the keys back in her pocket as she headed on home. She examined the area, taking note of how beautiful the sunset looked, and she suddenly wished she didn't have to go to the party tonight, because spend it on her new _special place_ thinking over everything. But being the new girl, and not having any friends, and the fact she was going with Quinn Fabray, meant it was like an obligation. She didn't have a choice.

It only took about five minutes to get home, and the walk was quite pleasant considering there wasn't much traffic and the route home was pretty rural, which meant less cars.

Santana unlocked her front door and expected Luis to run up to her, but as she entered the living room she saw her dad with his head hanging off the back of the sofa with her sleeping brother curled up next to him. She 'aw'd' them mentally and headed up stairs towards the bathroom.

She showered quickly, and headed down the hall towards the ladder which led to her bedroom and she climbed it quickly. Living on another level was peaceful sometimes, but most of the time it was a pain in the ass. Especially when she had to hold up her towel and climb several steps one-handed. She'd adjusted to it, but everytime she hit her elbow on the ladder, it majorly pissed her off.

Choosing the clothes to wear for the party was harder than she expected. She'd never been to a party which included a date in the form of Quinn Fabray. So she settled with a purple v neck top, leather jacket, black butt-hugging skirt, black leggings and knee length boots. Her hair was in loose ringlets over her shoulder and her make-up was light, eyeliner, mascara and a thin layer of lip gloss over her full lips.

She puckered up in the mirror before heading downstairs to find her dad watching the news on TV with Luis still asleep, with his tiny head on Mario's lap.

"Where you going hon?"

Santana stepped towards her father, "Party, Brett Luciphers. He lives a couple of roads down, Spring Road or something."

Her father nodded and turned his attention back to the TV, "Okay, be safe. And when you get back we need to talk about the little _incident_ earlier."

The Latina giggled quietly at the memory and nodded, biting her tongue to make sure she didn't accidently let the laugh slip, "Sure Dad, see you later."

She was halfway out the door when she remembered she didn't have a mode of transport, "Oh, by the way, can I take the Streetfighter? Please?"

"Course. Keys in the basket." He replied, surprising the Latina by how casual he was being about it.

Santana grabbed the keys and headed towards the small garage situated next to her house. She pressed the garage door and tapped her foot impatiently as it opened, once it did she was faced with the red, shiny motorbike standing in the middle of the the desolate garage.

The Latina tied one of the helmets to the back of the car, then put the other one over her head and zipping up her jacket, in order to prevent the cool air from chilling her. She climbed on, marvelling at the feel of the grip on the handles and revved it loudly after turning it on. She exited the garage, feeting gently pushing on each side to keep her stable as she cleared the road.

The brunette flicked the visa down and headed off down the road, feeling the adrenaline course in her veins as the bike hummed underneath her. Within minutes she'd pulled outside the address Quinn had given her and was created with a Greek godesses mansion. It was white with a large red door printing the number 72 on it. She placed the stand on the bike, letting it lean as she climbed off and removed her helmet.

After placing it next to the spare, she unzipped her jacket and headed towards the entrance where she was met by Quinn in a bright yellow summer dress which caused the Latina to see the same 'innocence' that radiated from her on her first day.

"Hello Stranger." Quinn said as she closed the door and stepped towards the Latina.

Santana looked her up and down and couldn't help but find the blonde incredibly attractive. The wind blew the dress up the tiniest bit, revealing strong thighs and the Latina smiled.

"Hey Q."

She turned around and headed down the path with Quinn hugging her arm. When they arrived at her motorcycle, Santana watched the blonde frown and furrow her eyesbrows at the vehicle.

"What?"

Quinn glanced up, "I didn't know you rode a bike."

Santana shrugged, "Oh, well, I do. Here, it's your helmet."

The blonde took the helmet grudgingly and Santana's suit as she climbed onto the motorcycle. The brunette allowed the other girl to shuffle until she was comfortable, and waited for the blonde to cling onto her.

"You might wanna hold on." Santana whispered after several seconds of waiting. Quinn jolted behind her and the Latina raised an eyebrow, but decided not to say anything.

A few seconds later Santana felt the blonde wrap her arms around her waist and they set off. It was a quick journey, and the Latina realised that they didn't really _need_ the bike, they could've walked.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, they'd arrived and Santana parked her motorbike up beside the house, out of view from anywhere. She put the two helmets on the back of the bike and secured them with a lock her dad had bought a few days ago.<p>

"Ready New Girl?" Quinn asked as she flicked her hair and stretched out her hand.

The Latina took a deep breath in, feeling the nerves set in as she took the blondes awaiting hand, "Ready."

They both entered the party, not bothering to knock on the door as some Juniors were running out the door as they walked into the porch. Santana grabbed Quinn and pushed her to the side as one of the Juniors tripped and faceplanted the deck. Both of the girls laughed and stepped over the fallen boy, entering the party and immediately being surrounded by heated bodies.

Santana clenched her jaw and pushed through them, in search of the kitchen which she knew would probably have some alcohol. They reached it, and she dipped her head under two arms connected above them when she ran straight into a body.

"Whoah shit, sorry."

The person didn't respond and the Latina looked up, only to be greeted by bright blue eyes. Santana straightened her back and was shortly bumped into as Quinn ducked under the same arms.

"No problem San, just try not to get yourself hurt."

The brunette cocked her head, "Well we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Brittany smiled seductively and narrowed her eyes, "Definitely not."

Santana stared deep into the distractingly beautiful eyes and licked her lips subconciously. Something fluttered deep within her stomach and she felt her heart spin as Brittany graced her stunning face with an equally stunning smile, showing bright white teeth.

"Oh, hey Britt." Quinn interrupted, breaking the locked stare. Santana looked around the room awkwardly, realising she'd completely forgotten about her date. "Me and San just arrived."

The blondes stance changed immediately, one second she was relaxed, and the next her body was rigid and her jaw was clenched tightly, almost to the point where Santana could hear the teeth grinding.

"Oh really? How nice." Brittany replied firmly. "Didn't know you two were an item."

Quinn smiled, and Santana went to interject when Brittany's eyes momentarily flickered to her, "Sorry bestie, been a little caught up recently. But if San can keep her hands off me for a few minutes we'll talk later, yeah?"

The shorter blonde jabbed the brunette in the side, eleciting a giggle from both of their lips and Santana coughed, remembering Brittany's presence. The taller blonde lengthened her neck as she brought her shoulders down and the Latina watched the muscles rippl in Brittany's neck, and traced the contours of the dancers collarbone as she nodded.

"Sure Q. Catch you later." Brittany replied, hardening her features as she spun on her feet.

Santana turned to Quinn, "So we're an item are we? Despite this being our first date and only being," She punctuated by looking at her phone, "Twenty minutes into it?"

The blonde blushed, "I was hoping, maybe. Plus I know there's something between us, you can't deny it Lopez."

The Latina smiled shyly and brushed a piece of hair behind Quinn's ear. She studied the hopeful face of the blonde and knew there was definitely something there, but it wasn't as strong as the something between her and-

_Stop._

She was stopped by her own thoughts and before she knew it she was nodding in answer to the blondes request. "Yeah, sure."

Quinn grinned from ear to ear and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Santana's olive cheek when she heard someone enter from the far entrance.

"Hey Brick." Quinn called, and Santana turned, questioning the strange name when she saw Puck standing behind Brittany with his arms, possessively wrapped around her waist.

The brunette slid to Quinn's side, and tightened her grip around the blondes shoulder as the blonde raised her hand to intertwine their fingers over her shoulder.

"Sup Fabray. Lopez." Puck said roughly, narrowing his eyes at Santana's surname.

"Noah." Santana replied, and the jock grimaced in response. The Latina flickered her gaze to Brittany who was already staring back at her. "Brittany."

"Noah you wanted a drink? C'mon babe." The taller blonde said as she unwrapped Puck's arms and led him towards the counter filled with drinks. Santana flinched slightly at the way the dancer ignored her and Quinn looked between the two girls, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Let's get one too." Santana said as she headed towards the counter with Quinn in toe and grabbed two red, plastic cups and filled them with punch.

She sniffed at the liquid and winced at how strong it smelt, gin, vodka and whiskey all mixed into one by the smell of it. Instead of questioning the mix, she gulped it down and filled up another one, thrusting a cup towards Quinn who did exactly the same.

"Whoah, calm down honey, don't want you getting too drunk." Quinn said as she leant in and kissed Santana's cheek.

Santana looked towards Brittany who was perched on the counter a few metres away with Puck standing in between her legs, kissing her neck. "Yeah, wouldn't want that, would we?"

Brittany turned her head just as the Latina allowed the words to sleep off her tongue and they locked eyes before Brittany twisted her head to capture Puck in a heated kiss. Her long, toned arms wrapped around the mohawked mans neck and secured their faces together as she tugged on his miniscule amount of hair.

The Latina grabbed the shorter blondes hand, grimacing and led them into the living room which was crowded with dancing bodies. She felt the bright blue eyes burn holes into the back of her head as they disappeared.

She raised Quinn's hands up into the air and trailed her fingertips down the blondes arms, causing goosebumps to form all over the pale skin. When she reached Quinn's waist, she pulled tighter, making sure her drink didn't spill as their bodies pressed together.

The blonde grinded her hips up against Santana's, causing a moan to escape her own mouth but nothing from the brunettes. Just as Quinn wrapped her arms around the Latina's neck, Santana caught the piercing cerulean gaze watching her from across the room.

Brittany leant against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her and her forefinger tapping on the red plastic cup as she narrowed her eyes towards Santana. Once again, they were locked in an intense staring session when the shorter blonde, wrapped up in the brunettes arms twisted her head to see the object Santana was looking at.

Santana dropped her eyesight immediately and Quinn narrowed her eyebrows as soon as she saw Brittany busying herself by talking to two other jocks, Karofsky and Azimio who were just focused on her cleavage.

The Latina watched Quinn turn back around to stare her in the eye, and instead of recieving the ear bashing, the blonde leaned forward and pressed her lips to Santana's. The brunette realised what was happening and shut her eyes, not wanting to see how Brittany was looking at her, if she'd seen it at all.

She indulged herself in the kiss, feeling Quinn's flavour on her lips and how the talented tongue of the blonde seeked entrance. Santana allowed it and soon, she was squeezing the blondes hips and pulling their bodies closer, with their tongues battling in an uneven rhythm.

Santana pulled away first, faking the need for oxygen and she immediately searched for Brittany. When she caught her, blonde hair flashed quickly as she exited onto the deck behind the house and the Latina coughed, feeling the burn in her thighs telling her she wanted to run after the escaping blonde.

"Mmmm," Quinn moaned as she ran her tongue over her own lips, tasting Santana on her. "You're like, an amazing kisser."

Santana smiled and blushed a little bit before flickering back to hopeful hazel eyes, "Thank you."

The blonde leaned in and pressed another kiss to the Latina's lips when Santana pulled away. "I've er, gotta go outside for a bit. Need some fresh air."

The Latina dropped her arms from the cheerleader and pressed a quick kiss to her temple, "I'll be right back babe."

Santana felt how wrong the word _babe_ sounded as she called her, well, _girlfriend_ it. Something just wasn't right, it felt foreign on her tongue, and not in the good way. Anyway, she pushed passed all the bodies, getting nudged in the ribs every now and then and escaped through the back door where she slammed it and leant against the handle, basking in the cool air as it drowned away the body heat building up into a thin layer of sweat across her body.

* * *

><p>She pushed off the door, opening her eyes when she saw Brittany standing at the bottom of the garden, in a gazebo which apparently basically floated on top of a small lake. The brunette shoved her hands into her pockets, and sucked in a large gulp of air before heading down to join the blonde.<p>

"Hey." She whispered.

Brittany didn't even acknowledge her presence and crossed her arms, rubbing her palms against her biceps as if she was cold. But after a few seconds the dancer sighed, and stole a quick glance at Santana before returning to the water glistening in the moonlight.

"Hi." Brittany murmured quietly.

Santana took a tentative step forward and watched the goosebumps form on the blondes arms, and start to shake as she felt the temperature drop. The Latina opened her mouth, realising if they wanted to talk, she'd have to start it but as she did, a large body barged into her shoulder and sidled up beside the blonde.

_Asshole._

Puck stood smirking at the brunette who was now standing isolated a few feet away from the couple. He watched Brittany shiver and looked down at her,

"What's up babe?"

She shrugged and flickered quickly between her boyfriend's jacket and Santana, "Nothing, just a bit cold."

He laughed evilly and squeezed her into his side, "Should've brought your own jacket then, shouldn't you."

Brittany smiled weakly and nodded. Santana almost couldn't restrain the intense urge building up in her fist to smack her half-brother straight in the jaw. But she watched Brittany as she shook her head the tiniest, like she could see Santana's intentions.

"Yeah babe. Should've done." She answered, faking a smile and squeezing him in return. Puck stood watching the two girls as they stared at each other and took a step infront of the two girls, effectively breaking their eye contact.

"Babe, we're about to play Beer Pong, you're my lucky charm so you better come watch." He said, raising his shoulders, just to make sure Santana couldn't make sneaky eye contact with Brittany.

The Latina watched as the blonde shook her head slightly, "Since when am I your lucky charm? I thought _Quinn_ was."

Puck held still for a few seconds, "Are you coming to join or not?" He asked aggressively.

When Brittany didn't answer, he took a step backwards and turned to the Latina, "Fine, hang out with this loser, like I give a fuck."

Santana restrained her wrists once again, feeling her nails dig deep into her palm as she camed herself, knowing beating the shit out of him probably wouldn't be the most productive thing to do - even if it was effective in getting him to shut the fuck up.

Puck shoved his hands back in his pockets and stalked towards the house, laughing as two jocks joined him and pointed back at the Latina who was glaring at him intently. Santana narrowed her eyes and watched them walk back into the house when she scoffed loudly, kicking a rock beneath her feet.

"What was that for?" Brittany asked, anger lacing her tone.

"Just can't believe you put up with _that._" She said, motioning towards the window where Puck was doing a body shot off a random cheerleader.

The blonde scowled and turned back to the water, where she watched it with great concentration. "He's not that bad."

"He's not that bad? He treats you like shit Brittany, and you _don't _deserve it."

Brittany whipped her head around, glaring at the Latina, "And how would _you_ know? You know _nothing_ about me."

"I know more than you think." Santana challenged, steppign forward towards the blonde.

Brittany shook her head in disbelief and returned to the water, and Santana watched the blondes body shudder as a gust of wind formed around her body. Instinctively, she shrugged off her jacket and moved in front of Brittany, stretching her arms to drape the coat around her back, pulling it together over the dancers crossed arms.

The dancer flinched and stared incredulously at the Latina as if this had never happened to her before. Santana watched the decision in the blondes head switch between telling the Latina to fuck off, or to thank her.

"Thanks." Brittany said gently, dipping her head.

The Latina brought a hand up and tilted the blondes chin up with her forefinger. "You okay?"

Their eyes connected once more, dark coffee orbs swirled with sparkling baby blue ones and Santana noticed the tiny grey freckles surrounding the pupils. The Latina brought her hands up and clutched the lapels of the jacket, pull it so it fitted snugly around the dancers body,

"There you go, feeling any warmer?" Santana whispered, still staring deeply into Brittany's eyes.

She felt the dancers hot breath blanket her face as their bodies almost leaned instinctively towards each other. The brunettes mouth ran dry and she licked her lips, trying to find some type of moisture. The blonde watched as Santana did so and mimicked the movement, flicking her sight between the Latina's full lips and dark brown eyes.

Suddenly even Santana was a hell of a lot warmer, the close proximity of their bodies sparked a heatwave and Brittany stopped shivering. Their faces were only inches apart and the dancer nodded, nearly brushing their noses together.

"Uhh, yeah. A lot warmer. Thank you" Brittany breathed, slowly blinking and covering Santana's face with her hot sweet breath. Santana breathed in the intoxicating aroma and let it swim around her body. Both of the girls gulped as they flickered down to each other's lips, and for a few seconds, everything around them disappeared.

* * *

><p>It was only when Quinn appeared beside them and touched Santana's arms that they broke apart, staring wide eyed at each other and shaking their heads.<p>

"Oh, hey Q." Santana said as she wrapped and arm around the shorter blondes waist and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Hey guys. Sorry, did I interrupt something?" She questioned, cocking an eyebrow and looking between the two girls who looked like they'd just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"No." Brittany answered, a little too quickly. "Not at all. I was just telling Santana that this weather was typical for Lima, hot then cold. Cold then hot."

The Latina scrunched her brows together, wondering why the blonde had lied when she almost heard the dancers thoughts, _go along with it._

"Yeah. Confusing whether here in Lima." Santana added, nodding her head and Quinn obviously started to believe the lie.

The shorter blonde quickly removed her curious expression and replaced it with a sweet smile. "Totally."

"Right, well I'll leave you two to it." Brittany said as she removed Santana's jacket and handed it to her.

The Latina looked at the jacket and back up to Brittany, cocking head head to the side.

"Not cold anymore?" She questioned suggestively, causing Brittany to look her dead in the eyes with a shocked expression.

She could see the real question behind Santana's words, and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, flickering between each of the mocha orbs staring intently at her. Quinn caught her attention, and the hazel eyes were boring into the side of the brunettes head, but Santana was completely oblivious.

"No." She said finally, after a few long seconds of silence.

Santana exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding and looked down to Quinn who was watching the silent exchange.

"Good, because I'm cold." Quinn added, grabbing the jacket and putting it on. Santana knew her girlfriend wasn't realy cold, because when she'd wrapped her arm around her, the girl was toastier than an oven.

"Okay. Um, bye." Brittany mumbled, turning and taking large hasty steps towards the house, before disappearing inside.

"Thought you were gonna be right back?" Quinn asked, stepping away from the brunette.

Santana broke her sight which was fixated on the door Brittany had just disappeared into and shoved her hands in her pockets, before looking back up to the blonde. "Yeah, just saw Britt and we started talking. Nothing important."

"You sure?"

The brunette nodded, "One hundred percent. Now c'mon, let's go get a drink."

"Lets." Quinn replied, looping her arm through Santana's as they headed back to the house. The Latina couldn't help but feel guilty, she didn't know why, but she could feel it growing in her chest - and the more time she spent with the short blonde, the more it grew.

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><p>The weekend flew by with Santana spending most of her Saturday at Quinn's house making out on the sofa, or bed, or any available surface since her parents weren't at home. She spent Sunday with Rachel, talking about the weekend and how much the Jewish girl disproved Santana's actions. After leaving the Berry house, the Latina started to think as she walked back to her house. She liked the blonde, she knew she did, and since she was single, who said she couldn't make out with her incredibly hot girlfriend?<p>

_You know what you're doing is wrong._

Were the seven words that ran through her mind on repeat, looping over and over any time her and Quinn touched. Neither of them had tried to take it further, and the Latina was glad considering they'd only been dating for like three days.

She wasn't a virgin, but moving into a new town, and giving it up within a week of dating the most popular, and probably slutty girl in school, wouldn't do much for her rep.

When it came to Monday, Santana picked up Quinn in her dad's 1988 Toyota pick-up truck and they headed to school. It was strange, being on the recieving end of the red-sea parting remake.

It was like they were celebrities when they walked down the hallway hand in hand. Santana wasn't used to so much attention, she liked blending into the surroundings.

With a quick peck to Quinn's lips, they parted and Santana headed to Spanish. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she remembered her desk partner. However, to her disappointment, when she arrived Brittany wasn't sitting there, and considering the Latina herself was late, she assumed the dancer wasn't coming.

So she sat down, slamming her books a little harder than necessary down on the desk and leaning back in her chair, watching nature pass by as she stared out the window. It wasn't like she needed to listen to Mr Schuester rambling on about the stereotyping of Spaniards, including taco's and fucking sombreros.

It wasn't until the door opened that she was shaken out of her door. She looked towards the door, expecting Principal Figgins who usually did his checks around this time, but instead was greeted by Brittany who was sporting puffy, red eyes. Her legs jolted, hitting the underside of the desk as she restrained the urge to punch the person causing Brittany to cry.

"Sorry Mr Schue." Brittany said as the Spanish teacher looked up towards her.

* * *

><p>Santana watched him indecisively decide whether to allow her to walk into the class half an hour late, but he nodded and she proceeded down the aisle towards the back corner of the classroom where Santana was sat.<p>

"Are you alright?" Santana whispered as Mr Schue returned to talking about tacos or whatever.

The blonde turned her head, acknowledging the Latina's words but just shrugging it off as if the brunette hadn't said anything at all. Santana widened her eyes in disbelief, and then narrowed them as the annoyance hit her.

She clenched her fingers tighter around the pen she was holding and leaned back in the chair, resuming her concentration on the nature outside the window.

The brunette wanted to know what the hell was going on. Why Brittany had turned up halfway through the lesson with blood shot eyes signifying some intense crying that'd taken place within the last hour or two.

_"Now class, in your desk partners, help each other complete this worksheet." _

Somewhere in the last few minutes, a worksheet had appeared in front of them and Santana leant forward, stretching her hand out to grab the sheet when Brittany's pale one shot out too. Their hands collided, olive skin and pale skin lingering on each other, the sparks shooting out in every direction as the girls examined their hands.

The Latina was the first to break as she looked up into ocean blue eyes surrounded by red rims, that obviously felt the electricity coursing through their touching skin. Something tugged at her heart, causing it to flutter and she retracted her hand, settling it in between her thighs along with her other hands. She looked away shyly, feeling the blood crawl across her cheeks.

_What the fuck? Are you blushing?_

She turned her attention back to the sheet, making sure to dip her head as she reached out her fingers and pushed the worksheet a few inches towards the blonde that was still gazing at the Latina.

"Thanks." Brittany replied bluntly, taking the sheet and starting to scribble on it.

Santana scrunched her face up and narrowed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief as she felt the dancer switch emotions within just a few seconds.

_Does this girl have bipolar or something! I swear to God her moods change every second!_

She peered over to the right, examining the grammar that she expected to be wrong when she saw the complete opposite. Each letter had the right accent over it, in the right direction and all the correct usage of the Spanish punctuation.

She inhaled deeply and raised both eyebrows, causing the dancer to look at her with a curious expression. As soon as she looked at the blonde, Brittany threw down her pen and shuffled to the edge of her seat, crossing her arms angrily.

_Another change._

"Wow." Santana breathed as she settled back into the seat.

She felt the indecision roll of Brittany as the dancer shuffled in her seat, not entirely sure whether to question the brunette.

After a few seconds of silence she inhaled and tilted her body towards the Latina, "What?"

"Have you ever been to a mental health clinic or something?"

Brittany grimaced, "No."

"You probably should. You have all the symptoms of bipolar." Santana uttered sarcastically, still staring out the window.

"Well you looked surprised that I'm not thick." Brittany snapped.

The Latina turned in her seat, shaking her head once more, "What? I never thought you were thick."

"The last time someone gave me that look they called me stupid."

Santana shrugged and turned back to a squirrel jumping from tree to tree. "Yeah?W Well I don't think you're stupid. Not even the littlest bit. I was just surprised that someone could use all the correct grammar when writing in Spanish. I'm fluent in the language and I still fuck up most of the time when using Spanish punctuation."

Brittany didn't reply, and the Latina started to become uneasy. So she turned her head and looked at the dancer who's eyes were smiling at her, but her face was trained into a blank expression.

The blonde immediately darted her gaze down to the pen she'd thrown down and fiddled with the nib of it. "You don't think I'm stupid?"

"No. I really don't." Santana answered, sincerity lacing her voice.

Ocean blue eyes connected with mocha ones and suddenly, once again, everything in the room disappeared. Santana blinked slowly and watched as Brittany's features softened into a small smile, showing tiny flickers of her brilliantly white teeth.

* * *

><p>"San? Babe?" A voice called, pulling the two girls out of their not-so-rare stares.<p>

Santana flickered away reluctantly, and met hazel eyes that were shaded with something. Quinn looked between the two girls and chuckled,

"Alright you two, if you're going to continue the eye sex you might wanna put on some glasses for protection!" She joked, slapping Santana on the arm lightly.

The dancers face fell and she stood up, "Ha! No Quinny, definitely not."

Santana clenched her jaw and smiled, "Wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong impression, would we Britt?"

Brittany licked her lips nervously and gritted her teeth together. She watched as the shorter blonde wrapped her arm around the Latina's shoulder, and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. Santana observed the taller blonde and sniffed in, sliding her hand around Quinn's waist and pulling her body close.

"No." The dancer replied, shuffling awkwardly as she realised she was standing.

Santana turned her attention to Quinn as the shorter blonde squeezed her shoulder gently.

"Hey babe? I was thinking you could come over after school on Friday, Judy and Russell are away, and we can finally spend some alone time."

The Latina could feel her heart pounding as the intentions behind Quinn's words were obvious. She also found it strange Quinn never referred to her parents as mom and dad, she used their first names. I guess it kind of showed something about her really, that she never got emotionally attached, hense the slut reputation.

Santana turned and looked at Brittany quickly, her pulse was loud in her ears, and she recognised it to be guilt. She gulped loudly and smiled at her girlfriend.

"Sure, anything you want."

"Mmm, anything I want?" Quinn repeated suggestively, leaning down and pressing a quick peck to Santana's lips.

_"Ladies! Keep the PDA for a free period!"_

The couple giggled as Mr Schue tutted loudly, and Quinn returned to her seat with a quick wink to Santana. The Latina kept chuckling until she turned back to her work to see Brittany with tears in her eyes again as she examined something in her lap, her phone.

"Britt are you alright?"

The blonde scowled, "It's Brittany. And I'm fine. Fucking fine."

Santana backed away and returned to the sheet were she drew a few sombreros and tacos on the side. Mr Schuester couldn't tell her off if she was drawing what he was probably talking about. She pondered over the last few weeks and started to become increasingly confused as she remembered, action by action the way Brittany had acted towards her.

She tried to think of anything she'd done to offend the dancer, but as she traced back she couldn't find a thing. So she started doodling mindlessly as Brittany sniffed beside her, wiping her cheeks every now and then on the sleeve of her tight turtleneck which was placed underneath her Cheerios uniform.

Before the bell could even ring, the dancer had grabbed her book and was halfway out the door. Santana heard Mr Schuester yelling for the cheerleader, but before he could finish the sentence, Brittany had disappeared into the bodies crowding the corridoors.

Yes, this year was definitely becoming more and more interesting.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the long chapter guys!<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, and the story is playing out nicely! Please review!**


	5. Guilt Pangs

**Just to let you know, this chapter does have some Quintanna smut in it! Just a word of warning!**

**But it is necessary before anyone asks as it ties in with the storyline!**

**Read, enjoy and I hope you review! Thanks!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>If there is no struggle, there is no progress.<br>**_**- Frederick Douglass**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Five**

It's been a week since Brittany walked out of Spanish class, leaving Santana wondering what she'd done wrong. Somehow the blonde had managed to evade the Latina, by skipping their four Spanish lessons and avoiding her in the corridoors. As much as she didn't want to admit it, the dancer had definitely gotten to her, and there was a large hole in her heart, urging her to know what she'd done to offend Brittany.

After school on the Wednesday, she wandered out into the parking lot, hoping her dad would be there to pick her up as he wouldn't allow her to take the Ducati, considering she'd left it at the party the other night. Apparently being responsible and not drink driving wasn't enough for her.

A buzzing in her pocket shakes her from her mental rant and she slides up her Blackberry;

**Sorry mija, can't make it to pick you up. Mustang needs some work at Garage. Sorry - Papi x**

She grimaced and shoved the phone back in her pocket, not even bothering to reply as she stalked out the lot. It wasn't a long walk back, but she had to pass the Puckerman household, and that just brought venom to the back of her throat.

But she carried on down the road, turning down Prosperus Avenue, the street running parallel to her road in order to jump over the tiny fence to get into her back garden. Just as she passed headed down the road, she heard footsteps following behind her.

She didn't bother turning round, just assuming it was a few random people and pulled up her hood, covering her features and shoving her headphones in. About two minutes later, she could feel the people getting closer behind her, as if they were trying to catch up, so she dipped her head further and immersed herself in the music when a large figure stepped in her path.

"Lopez." A deep voice growled. She glanced up and ripped out one of her headphones to look up into narrowed hazel eyes.

"Noah, what do you want?" She grumbled, looking over her shoulder to see two large jocks and a few cheerleaders. Her eyebrows furrowed when the jock in front of her grabbed her by the shoulder.

She wrenched away from his touch, smacking his hand in the process and glared at him, "Get your fucking hands off me."

"You need to learn a lesson about staying away from other peoples belongings." He said agressively. Before she could question his statement, blackness greeted her as, what felt like a knitted bag, covered her head and half her body.

She was picked up off the floor, and she thrased about inside, kicking and punching whatever she could reach. The Latina heard a couple of 'oofs' and 'ows', but when she felt herself collide with a metal surface, and heard an engine roar, she assumed she'd been thrown into a van.

"Get the fuck off me!" She yelled as hands tried to still her thrashing body, but she just kicked them away.

"SOMEONE GET HER LEGS FOR FUCK SAKE!" Noah shouted from behind her, she could only assume he was driving whatever contraption she was in.

A strong pair of hands grabbed her legs and pinned them down, preventing her from moving. She continued to wriggle but no longer connected with anything, and after a lengthy struggle, the engine shut off and she was being carried out, two pairs of hands holding her.

A feminine pair of hands reached underneath her hovering body, and tied up her hands behind her back, making sure she couldn't punch anyone as the bag or material was lifted up over her head. She was instantly dropped and was greeted by sloshy, dirty mud that she was now lying on her front in. Her head collided with something hard inside the mud and she winced, but the adrenaline prevented her from feeling any pain.

Several laughs echoed around the surroundings, and she looked up to see three cheerleaders she didn't recognise and Noah with two jocks, who the Latina recognised to be Azimio and Karofsky.

She somehow struggled, and felt incredibly ridiculous as she rolled from side to side like a bettle and managed to push herself up onto her knees. She narrowed her eyes as the anger flashed through her body, but due to her current state of being tied up, publicly humilated, embarrassed and fist-shakingly infuriated all she could do was glare at her captors.

Puck smirked and Santana's fists shook behind her muddied body, "Stay away from Brittany. She doesn't want to be associated with a low life like you. As for Quinn, she's just the school slut, she'll move on eventually."

Azimio let out a throaty laugh, "Back to you right Puckerman?"

Karofsky joined in the laugh and Puck smiled, "Yeah boys. Back into my arms and in between my legs."

Santana clenched her jaw, listening to her half brothers plans.

"I mean have you see that ass!" Azimio said, thrusting his hips forward whilst smacking something imaginary in front of him.

Puck mimicked his movement, thrusting with a little more anger than before, "Yeah boy, Imma ride that like a pony."

Karofsky and Azimio laughed and the Latina flared her nostrils, trying not to flinch at the taste of mud in her mouth. As much as she didn't want to think it, she really didn't mind that much that he was going to do this to _her_ girlfriend.

The thought of him letting down Brittany was what was spurring on her fury, and it was the reason why her hands were twisting and rubbing against the rope that was slowly grazing the skin aroudn her wrists.

"Yeah Puckerman. You did a real good job with me yesterday." One of the cheerleaders said with a seductive glint in her eyes. Puck walked up to her and smacked her ass playfully.

"Yeah babe. Now, guys, back to _this thing_." He said, gesturing to the Latina fuming at him from her position in the damp mud.

"You got it Lopez? Stay away from Brittany."

The Latina shook her head, but ultimately knew her half brother was the top of the school, compared to Santana, she was just dirty on the ground.

"That's what I thought." He smirked, turning away and grabbing another one of the Cheerio's asses. "Babe, back to mine yeah?"

She giggled and nodded, "Of course, _big boy._"

Santana watched the whole exchange and grimaced as they clambered into the large black Escalade, which she assumed was the mode of transport to wherever she was. Just as the engine turned on, the drivers door opened and Puck stepped out, walking towards the Latina and grabbing her phone out her jean pocket.

With a smirk he dropped it infront of the Latina and brought his foot down on it hard, forming a large cracking noise and electrical sparks flicker into the air as the phone electrics collided with the moisture in the mud.

"See you at school tomorrow, Lopez." Puck muttered as he walked back to the car with an evil laugh.

The car drove off and left Santana, still kneeling in the mud with her muscles aching due to the scowl painted on her face. She looked down to her sleeveless, vintage Ramones t-shirt which was covered in lumpy mud clumps and she sighed heavily.

* * *

><p>After about two minutes of wriggling her wrists, she managed to loosen the knot and shrugged out of the tie clamping her hands together. She didn't know why, but her first instinct was to rub her wrists, like people did in those movies after being released from handcuffs, despite it not actually hurting all that much.<p>

She looked around, examining her surroundings and she realised she was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Tall trees surrounded her, muddy ditches accompanied them and a cold chill picked up in the wind, causing her olive frame to shiver.

She staggered up from her kneeling position, and started the trek towards what she hoped was the nearest road. Her head was spinning but she trudged on, not bothering to acknowledge the knock to the head she'd recieved a few minute ago.

Santana dug her hand into her pocket, finding her iPod and realising it hadn't evaded the mud and like her Blackberry and t-shirt, was complete ruined. She scowled and mentally noted to do exactly the same thing to Puck when she got the opportunity.

She'd been walking for about three hours when she saw bright headlights and loud music coming from a car about a mile to her right. The sky had darkened, and to her surprise she realised it must be about 8 or 9 o'clock, which meant her dad would be fuming by now as she had no way of contacting him.

She craned her neck and started running through the trees, ignoring the twigs and branches catching her ruined clothing and bare arms, leaving small scratches on her toned biceps.

Within about thirty seconds her feet hid hard ground, and she glanced to see a road beneath her feet. It was only at that moment that she realised the headlights could belong to Puck's Escalade and she could be put through the same thing again. However before she could jump back into the forests, the car stopped about ten or so metres down the road and stood still.

Santana brought her hand up to cover her face from the bright lights as they penetrated her eyes, and the full state of her tangled hair and dirtied clothes became apparent. She hesitated momentarily before a body stepped out of the car and hovered by the door, obviously taking in her homeless-like state.

"Hello?" Santana called impatiently, all she wanted to do was to go home, have a nice long shower and spend at least half an hour pretending her punching bag was Puck's face.

"What happened to you?" A soft voice called. She recognised it immediately, it was so sweet it couldn't possibly belong to anyone else.

"Your _boyfriend_, and my _half brother_, happened." The Latina replied firmly, raising her lips slightly into a miniature snarl.

Brittany leant into her car, minimising the headlights to thhe side ones and took a few steps towards Santana. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever. Can you give me a lift home?" Santana deadpanned.

Brittany frowned and her eyes glistened with a sincere apology as she took a step toward the brunette, positioning herself within an metre of her. "Of course but San, I really am sorry. He's such a jerk."

The Latina took a step away as she noticed how close their bodies had become. She gestured to her clothing and let out a sarcastic laugh,"Yeah well I'm not exactly surprised. He's always been a jerk."

Santana felt a warm trickle form on the top of her forehead and she instinctively reached up to feel the weird sensation when a soft, pale hand beat her too it.

"You're bleeding." Brittany whispered, taking another step forward and carefully ghosting her hand over the liquid seeping out Santana's forehead.

The Latina suddenly remembered her encounter with a hard object as Puck chucked her into the mud and winced.

"Yeah. When Noah chucked me into the muddy ditch, I hit my head on something." She commented, allowing Brittany to lean in ridiculously close, until the point where Santana could see the tiny grey specks in her eyes again.

The Latina watched Brittany's face scrunch in disapproval as she examined the cut and brushed away something, causing the brunette to flinch.

"Sorry. It doesn't look like you'll need stitches though." The blonde whispered, staring straight into chocolate orbs.

They both looked at each other for long moments, taking in every inch of each others face. Their breath mingles as Brittany moves her body closer to the Latina's, eyes still locked.

"Yeah... that's, um... good." Santana stuttered and involuntarily licking her lips.

Brittany exhaled, blanketing the Latina's face, "Yah... good."

Eyes flickered to lips quickly, and then back up to meet each other's stare. Their bodies are pressed flushed against each other and Santana gulps, feeling her heart pounding hard. She swore that she could even feel Brittany's throbbing just as hard through the thick, red, Cheerios jacket.

Santana chanced, flicking her eyes up to Brittany's momentarily as they fluttered a few times, as if she was trying to battle the urge to close them. The few times she saw the brilliant blue, in between the blinks, the dancers eyes were beaming brightly, almost sparkling as they looked into mocha ones.

Santana smiled and leant forward the tiniest bit, brushing their noses together gently before tilting her head to the side. One final look up to Brittany's eyes, to show that they were closed was enough confirmation for the Latina, and she inhaled deeply and leant forward.

* * *

><p>A buzzing broke them from their daze, and Santana pulled away, looking down at the pocket of Brittany's jacket which was being illuminated. Brittany opened her eyes and widened them comically. She licked her lips and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she whipped out her phone.<p>

She looked at Santana quickly, and the brunette could see the sadness that shaded the ocean blue eyes as she answered;

"Hey Q. Oh um yeah, actually I found her."

Santana narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to silently question the dancer. Brittany smiled sadly and stepped backwards, taking a few strides towards her baby blue Mercedes where she leant against the bonnet.

The Latina wondered when Brittany had got her car back, but since it'd been more than a week since the lake meeting, she must have come by the garage when Santana wasn't there.

"Yeah, just off Spencerville Road,"

Brittany's eyes widened, as if Quinn had just caught her out on something and hesitated,

"I was um, just, going to see," Her eyes flickered over the Latina's shoulder, "To the Computer Guy. Need to get my laptop fixed."

Santana watched the blonde listen intently to the other blonde down the line and stare deeply into the brunette's brown orbs. She knew the dancer was lying, it was clear. As if her not so surprised expression when she'd saw Santana standing with muddied clothes wasn't enough, the hesitation in her voice confirmed it.

She quickly looked over her shoulder and saw a sign by the road with 'COMPUTER GUY, 3 MILES' scribbled onto it and this was just another confirmation.

"It broke." Brittany answered, and every muscle in Santana's body told her to grab the phone, demanding the real reason why she was out there.

Santana watched Brittany tense, and her eyes suddenly darkened, "Yeah, okay. We'll be at yours in about twenty minutes. Okay. Bye Q."

Brittany snapped her phone shut and shoved it back in her pocket. She leant her palms back against the bonnet as she bit on her bottom lip, still staring at Santana who now had her arms crossed.

"Quinn needs us back. She's been worrying about you, you know." Brittany said, more in a statement than a question.

Santana swallowed and looked through thick eyelashes towards the dancer who was drumming her fingertips on the bonnet.

"I've never seen her worry about someone so much." Brittany said, her tone laced with sadness.

"She really cares about you, more than she's ever cared about anyone before." She added, dropping her head and fiddling with her fingers which were now in her lap.

Santana could feel the sadness eminating of the cheerleader, but as she opened her mouth to respond, Brittany moved and climbed into the drivers seat. "Quinn gets angry if people are late. C'mon San."

* * *

><p>The Latina stood in front of the car, still anchored to her position as she debated whether or not to call Brittany up on her obvious sadness created by her and Quinn's relationship. But after deciding some things were better kept quiet, she headed towards the passenger door and climbed in.<p>

The drive wasn't a long one, but it felt like forever as the silence claimed their conversation. Santana turned her head, watching Brittany grip the wheel tightly as they turned down a road towards Quinn's house, and opened her mouth as she felt a pang of guilt her hit chest, but she stayed quiet.

Shortly after, they pulled up outside the Quinn's mansion, and Brittany killed the engine. Quinn rushed outside, eyes puffy and red, notifying the Latina she'd been crying and she threw herself into the car, so she was basically straddling Santana.

She peppered kisses around the brunettes face, not even bothering to wipe the mud out the way. "Oh my God San.." She continues to pepper a few more kisses, "I was so worried."

Santana giggled and pulled Quinn's face away between her hands. "I'm fine babe. Honestly."

Chocolate brown orbs flickered to ocean blue ones which diverted their attention to something outside the moment they met. "It was lucky Britt was around really, otherwise I would've had a hell of a trek home."

Quinn straightened her body and looked at Brittany, before throwing her arms around her, "Thank you Britt. Thank you so much for going and looking for her, especially when I didn't ask you-"

"I didn't." Brittany interjected. "Like I said, I was going to the Computer Guy. Santana just happened to be in the middle of the road as I was coming up to it."

The shorter blonde raised an eyebrow, "That doesn't make any sense. Why were you coming up to it from the east?"

The dancer hesitated momentarily, tugging on her top lip, "I just went for a drive. What's with the twenty questions anyway? You should just be happy your girlfriend is back."

Santana detected the internal wince as Brittany said _girlfriend_ but bit on her tongue. She could see the jealousy shade behind her bright blue orbs as she watched Quinn hug her closer, peppering kisses over her cheeks, forehead, neck.

"Thank you Britt." Santana said, staring directly into the dancers eyes.

"No problem." Brittany replied, moving her head to the right slightly in an acknowledging gesture.

* * *

><p>"C'mon San, let's go upstairs. You need a shower." Quinn said as she hopped off the Latina and tugged her by the wrist out the car. "Bye Britt!"<p>

The brunette didn't take her eyes off Brittany the whole time, even when her girlfriend was tugging her down the footpath, her feet were reluctantly moving, as if she wanted to run back to the dancer sitting in her car. Santana could see the silent plea in Brittany's eyes, but before she could do anything about it, Quinn had waved and the dancer had driven off into the distance.

Quinn had already led Santana up into her en suite bathroom, and taken most of the ruined clothes off her body. She stood in her black bra and black girl boxers when Quinn pushed her up against the bathroom wall and ravished her neck.

All Santana could see was the the bright blue orbs silently begging her to not go in the house with Quinn, and she could barely feel her girlfriends fingers remove the her own clothing as well as the remaining bits covering Santana, and pull them both into the shower.

The brunette looked down at Quinn who's eyes were flaming with lust, and suddenly her lips were on Santana's. Their naked bodies collided together and Santana's brain was racing with images of Brittany.

The blonde broke from the kiss and licked her way up to Santana's olive earlobe, tugging on it with her teeth before whispering in her ear with a shakey breath, "I want you Santana."

The Latina turned Quinn's head, and forced their mouths together in a heated kiss, tongues messily colliding together and moans escaping the blondes mouth. Santana sucked on the strong muscle, wanting to feel it on other places in her body.

Santana's hands instinctively wandered from Quinn's shoulder blades, down her back and gripped on her hips, pulling their bodies closer together as their tongues battled together. The blonde was cupping the Latina's neck, securing their faces together.

Brittany suddenly flashed into the brunettes mind and she broke the kiss, moving to Quinn's neck, earning a loud moan. She hesitated momentarily, not knowing whether the Fabrays were in and pulled back t look at Quinn with wide eyes.

"Judy and Russell aren't home babe." She whispered, craning her neck so Santana could get better access.

Santana couldn't shake the images of Brittany in her head as she nipped and bit at Quinn's neck with vigour, knowing the marks she would be leaving. The blonde pushed Santana up against the wall and switched roles, so she was ravishing on the Latina's neck whilst the water dropped over Santana's face, causing her mascara to stream down her face. She leant her head against the wall tile and exhaled, bringing the back of her hand to rest against her head.

She used all her force to push Brittany out her brain as she lifted up Quinn's head and brought their lips back together in a bruising kiss. Santana pulled on the small of the blondes back and started lapping up the water as it trickled down her girlfriends body.

She felt a flush of heat run through her body and her heart wrenched painfully whilst it beated at a rapid pace. She took one of the blondes pink, hardened buds into her mouth and circled it with her tongue. Quinn moaned and grabbed the Latina's hair, scrunching it together with her fist and pulling the brunettes mouth tighted against her chest.

Santana didn't hesitate as she licked up the blondes collarbone, tracing around the bone structure and up to Quinn's mouth. She slid her hand down her girlfriends pale body, and ran a single digit through slick heat.

Quinn was hungry with desire and obviously had been as soon as she'd seen her in the car with...

_Stop._

The Latina looked up and saw a hunger deep within the hazel eyes of her girlfriend. She fought the other blondes name out of her head and slid another finger through the heat. Quinn didn't even try to suppress her moan as Santana entered her with two fingers.

The blonde bit down gently into Santana's shoulder as the Latina thrusted heavily into her girlfriend, curling every now and then, causing the blonde to thrash in pleasure. The brunette hiked up the cheerleader, so Quinn wrapped her legs around Santana's waist and she gripped onto the mechanics thigh with surprising strength.

The Latina looked up to meet hazel eyes, when to her surprise bright ocean blue orbs were staring back at her. She paused her movements, and shook her head, completely dazed by what she saw. A peck to her lips awoke the Latina from her daze and she opened them to reveal Quinn looking at her with a curious expression.

Without anymore hesitation, the brunette slammed into the blonde again and again; the back of her hand brushing against her own core and working her up into a frenzy. The kisses continued, sloppy and misjudged as tongues slipped on eachother. Their bodies were sliding together due to the water still trickling out the shower head, and the brunette brough their heads together.

She could feel Quinn reaching her peek as the cheerlead started to work her hips furiously against Santana's hands, grinding and thrusting. Santana could see the difference in moisture as sweat started to drip off the blondes head, however it was quickly washed away and the Latina resumed nibbling on the sensitive spot below Quinn's earlobe.

The cheerleader let out a cry of ecstasy as Santana thrusted one final time into her girlfriend. She could feel Quinn coming around her fingers as the muscles tightened around her digits. She allowed the blonde to ride out the orgasm by curling her fingers and hitting _that_ spot, but when she looked up, Brittany had taken place of her girlfriend. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to wish the image of her away.

Another strangled moan escaped Quinn's lips and Santana slid down the wall, sitting on the cool floor whilst her girlfriend panted heavily against her neck. Amongst the smell of sweat and sex, there was a faint aroma of coconut, and Santana glanced down to see some coconut showel gel pouring out into the plug hole.

She giggled quietly, not realising when that happened and breathed in heavily whilst Quinn pulled back and questioned the emotion. The Latina nodded down to the shower gel and Quinn raised an eyebrow at her as if to say _how is that funny?_Suddenly, Santana had a massive urge that overcame her body, wishing Brittany was there, because she _would_ find it funny.

But instead she breathed in heavily and kissed Quinn's jawline, whilst withdrawing her fingers and washing them in the pool of water gathered above the plughole. Brittany was still running through her mind, and she closed her eyes, horrified at herself. She'd imagined another girl in the place of her girlfriend whilst they were fucking for the first time.

"Wow." The blonde breathed, interrupting the Latina's thoughts as she looked up at Santana with half-hooded eyes.

Santana nodded and smiled, but piercing blue eyes were still invading her mind, "Yeah."

"That was," Quinn breathed heavily, punctuating her sentence, "amazing."

_You wish it was someone else. You wish it was __**her**__._

The brunette closed her eyes again, feeling the pang of guilt hit her frame as she nodded slowly. She couldn't help but tingle at the thought of her and Brittany re-enacting her and Quinn's last few minutes, and hated herself at the thought.

_She really cares about you, more than she's ever cared about anyone before._

Brittany's words ran through her mind, and she could feel her heart tug painfully. She hated feeling this way, she hated the fact she was doing this. But Brittany had Puck, and she had Quinn, and that was the way it was supposed to be. She turned her head, and pressed a single kiss to Quinn's temple as she spoke in a hushed tone;

"Yeah babe, amazing."

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><p><strong>Tell me what you thought please! Thanks!<strong>


	6. Spit It Out

**Right, this is where all the drama starts kicking off, well, kinda anway.**

**From here on, everything picks up, delving into the plot of OTH a bit, but most of it is my original ideas.**

**I hope you enjoy! Please review!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth.<br>**_**- Bo Bennett**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Six**

Santana woke up the next morning with Quinn's armed wrapped around her midsection. She swung her arm over her eyes, burying her nose into the crook of her elbow and she sighed heavily, remembering the previous nights events.

She looked around her surroundings, after deciding not to get up for a while considering she had a good half hour til she was supposed to be up and observed the decorum in Quinn's room. Her walls were painted a light yellow colour, most of the furniture was made of white pine and it looked expensive to say the least.

There were porcelain dolls stacked in a glass cabinet over the far right hand corner, and it creeped the shit out of Santana. If she'd known they were there last night, she definitely wouldn't have got any sleep.

The bed they were on was large, like _huge_. It was king size, and stretched about a foot longer than the length of Santana's body which she found ridiculous considering it wasn't occupied by an animal or something. Quinn was around the same height as the Latina, depending on her footwear.

The blonde murmured something incoherent and twisted, facing away from the brunette, and Santana is internally glad. She slides out of bed, and walks across her girlfriends bedroom completely naked when a knock on the door startles her. Quinn sits up immediately with wide, tired eyes and mouths _wardrobe_ to the Latina.

Santana hastily jumped inside, not bothering to grab anything to cover her bare body as she slides the doors shut, just as Russell Fabray walked in. The Latina covered her mouth with her hand and watched through the edge as Quinn pulled the covers up over her body.

"Morning Daddy." Quinn said sweetly, sending a cringey sensation around the Latina's body.

Her girlfriend was such a daddies girl. Russell took a seat on the edge of Quinn's bed, and she shuffled uncomfortably, probably very aware of her naked state.

"Morning honeybunch." He replied, scrunching his nose.

There was a silence and the blonde flickered her eyes towards the wardrobe, where Russell furrowed his brows at his daughter, and followed her eyesight. But Quinn coughed and spoke;

"What are you doing back daddy? I thought you'd be away til next Monday?" Quinn questioned.

Russell narrowed his eyes towards the wardrobe before turning back to his daughter, "Can't a father come see his little girl. I feel like I leave you alone all the time munchkin."

Santana restrained the chortle as the man booped his daughters nose. She looked around and grabbed whatever clothing was in her reach. Luckily, the wardrobe wasn't a cramped one, it basically felt like another room. She restrained the urge to switch on the light, but found a soft hoodie and sweatpants, and shrugged them on as quietly as possible.

"Of course daddy. Just thought you would've called." Quinn said, trying to sound innocent. She grabbed the sheets and pulled them higher so they were covering her bare chest. "I've actually got to start getting ready for school, so if you don't mind."

Santana watched as Russell pressed a quick kiss to Quinn's forehead and walked towards the door. Chocolate brown orbs met hazel ones shaded with a silent smirk. They'd gotten away with it.

"Oh Quinny?"

The brunettes eyes widened and so did Quinns, Santana caught her breath as she slapped her hand over her mouth.

"I'm going to meet with Benzino Puckerman and Mario Lopez now, so I'll leave fifty dollars on the coffee table for you to get whatever you want for breakfast seeing as your mother's still in New York."

The blonde smiled brightly at the mention of fifty dollars. Santana raised her eyebrows so they met her hairline.

_Papi? What does he want with her?_

"Okay thank you daddy. Bye." Quinn answered with another sickeningly sweet grin.

"Bye sweetie." The older Fabray replied after blowing a kiss to his daughter and shutting the door.

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><p>Santana exhaled heavily, releasing the breath she'd been witholding and slid open one of the doors. Their eyes met briefly from within the darkness and Quinn bit down on her bottom lip,<p>

"I don't think he saw." She whispered, flickering her gaze to the door quickly.

The Latina furrowed her brows, mulling over Russell Fabrays words and wondered why he'd be meeting with her father, alongside Benzino Puckerman of all people. She wrapped her fingers around the sliding door and started pulling back. Before Santana could even poke her head out there was another knock at the door and hazel eyes widened.

"Get back in!" Quinn muttered loudly, throwing the sheets over her body once more and awaiting the door to open.

Santana tumbled back into the closet, catching her foot on something on the floor and landing with a thud as her back hit the inside wall. She stayed quiet, despite the intense throbbing in her ribs and peered out the crack of the door.

Unfortunately, due to her new found position in the closet, which included her legs up in the air, hanging at an awkward angle as they were propped up on a cardboard box, she couldn't see who'd walked through the door. But as she examined Quinn's face relaxed, she realised it couldn't be that bad.

"San, you can come out now." The blonde called, motioning the brunette over.

The Latina stilled but then managed to manouver herself up and step towards the sliding doors. She reached out her hand

"Although you might wanna throw on some clothes. Wouldn't want Britt getting jealous of your sexy body now." Quinn chuckled.

Santana froze as she realised the dancer was standing a few feet away from her. She cleared her throat awkwardly and slid the door open, revealing her sweat pants and hoodie look which Quinn giggled at.

Cerulean eyes met mocha ones and the Latina immediately felt the same fucking guilt pang hit her body as the taller blonde eyed up the sex hair Santana was sporting.

"Hi." Britt whispered after long moments of examining the Latina.

"Hey Britt." Santana replied, biting her bottom lip as she watched Brittany's eyes darken.

Quinn darted her eyes between the two girls and narrowed them. "Wow, is it me or did tension suddenly walk in the room?"

Santana and Brittany snapped out of it and looked into hazel eyes which were still looking between them. Quinn laughed and grabbed the Latina's hand, tugging her down onto the bed and under the covers.

The brunette allowed the head cheerleader to snuggle into her chest as she wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling Quinn's back tighter into her chest.

"So B, why you here so early? Glad you didn't walk in about twenty minutes ago, would've caught an eyeful." Quinn joked, laughing throatily.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows slightly, knowing twenty minutes ago they were sleeping and looked down, not wanting to meet the dancers saddened gaze.

_Why would Quinn lie?_

Brittany shuffled in her position by the door, shifting her weight onto the opposite leg and running her right palm up her left arm.

"I didn't know," She cleared her throat,"Santana was here, so I came by to see if you wanted a lift to school. But don't worry, I'll see you two lovebirds at school." Brittany answered, forced happiness lacing in her tone.

The dancer obviously cringed internally at saying two lovebirds, but swallowed it down. The Latina sensed the flinch and crooked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes and examining the dancer that gazed deeply into her mocha orbs.

Brittany hesitated momentarily, flickering to the carpet and then back up to Santana before locking their eyesight together. And for a second, Santana completely forgot about the blonde girlfriend wrapped up in her arms.

"Uhm, actually, Santana doesn't have her motorbike, so a lift would be great B." Quinn replied smiling.

She tilted her head and kissed the underside of Santana's jaw before tapping her arms, silently asking for release. She sat up and grabbed the cover, obviousy before remembering her nude state.

"Oh, er, Britt, do you mind, I'm kinda um, naked." Quinn uttered, glancing down to her current state and then back to Santana with a wink.

Brittany's eyes flashed once again with sadness, and thankfully it went unnoticed by the blonde who was winking at Santana. However the Latina had her eyes trained on the dancer the whole time and saw the change in emotion immediately.

The blonde nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Santana sighed and Quinn slipped out of bed, dropping the cover and revealing her bare body.

The Latina probably would've been turned on at the sight of the head Cheerio obviously strutting towards her wardrobe if it hadn't been for her curious eyes still locked on the door, which unfortunately, this time, didn't go unnoticed by Quinn.

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><p>About twenty minutes later, Santana brushed her and straightened it out so it hung loosely over her shoulders and applied one coating of lip gloss before heading down the stairs. She'd borrowed a white tank top of pair of skinny jeans from Quinn, which fitted nicely around her frame.<p>

As she hopped off the bottom step, she saw a head of hair protruding over the top of the sofa in the next room, clearly focused on the whatever was playing on TV.

The Latina bit her lip nervously and shoved her hands in her pocket, before taking a few steps into the living room and clearing her throat.

"Uh, hey."

Santana watched the blondes jaw clench, but Brittany made no movement to respond to the brunette. So the Latina edged around the sofa and took a seat next to her.

"What you watching?"

Brittany blinked and shuffled away from the Latina, "Scooby Doo."

Santana giggled and recieved a scowl from fiery blue eyes. "Why is that funny?"

"It's just Scooby Doo is like my favourite cartoon ever."

The blonde turned and stared Santana deep in the eye, almost as if Santana was transparent and her soul was bared.

"Used to watch him as a kid with my mom, but now it's barely on so I never get to watch it." The Latina continued sadly, tucking her leg underneath her butt as she felt a twist in her chest.

The blonde widened her eyes and turned to Santana, who was now fixated on the screen. "Really? I've never met anyone our age who likes it."

Santana turned and was momentarily hypnotised by the sparkle in Brittany's eyes, her breath hitched in her throat and the blonde giggled in response.

"Oh God, you're not watching Scooby fucking Doo again are you? Seriously Britt, that's just sad." Quinn said as she bounced down the stairs.

"It's not sad." Santana defended as the shorter blonde skipped to her and threw herself down on her lap.

Quinn wrapped her arms and the Latina's neck and pulled her temple in to press her lips to it. "You'd have to be thick to think this show is actually decent."

Santana darted her gaze to Brittany who was twiddling with her thumbs, obviously hurt by Quinn's comment. Something flared inside the Latina and she removed her hands from the the shorter blondes arms and unwrapped them from her neck as narrowed her eyes.

"Why would you even say that? The brunette questioned firmly, shrugging the blonde off her lap. "Especially when you know what it's gonna do to Britt."

Brittany's eyes widened as she looked up nd a small smile appeared at the corner of her lips. Quinn looked like a slapped puppy as she watched Santana push up off the sofa and walk towards the kitchen

"I didn't know Britt meant that much to you Santana." Quinn challenged as the brunette reached the door.

Santana heard Brittany's breath hitch as her own did, and she stopped in her tracks, turning to meet hazel eyes with a crooked eyebrow. Her mind was racing and she gulped heavily, not entirely sure if she heard her girlfriend correctly.

"I said I didn't know _my best friend_ Brittany meant that much to you. Enough for you to defend her."

The Latina clenched her jaw and felt her nostrils flaring, she shook her head and let out a quiet laugh which she muffled with her balled fist, "And I didn't know you could be such a bitch."

The dancer stood up from her place on the sofa and turned towards the door, "I uh, I'll see you later guys. Gotta um, go. My mom wants me ba-"

"No stay." Quinn interrupted, her lips tilted upwards the tiniest bit into a miniature snarl. She rose from her seat and brushed past the taller blonde, "I'm going."

"Q you can't walk out your own house. It's kinda ridiculous." Santana commented, raising her eyebrows.

Her girlfriend spun around and scowled at the brunette, "Watch me."

And with that the head Cheerio walked out the door, slamming it loudly and leaving Brittany and Santana alone.

The Latina shuffled and shook her head, she was pissed off at her girlfriend. She walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa, quickly glancing up at Brittany who was staring at her with greatful eyes.

"You really didn't have to do that. I can handle Quinn, we've been best friends for years."

Santana shook her head again, "I wanted too. She was a bitch and you didn't deserve it."

Brittany took a step forward and perched on the arm of the sofa, twisting her legs so they were planted on the cushions and she was facing the Latina. "She didn't really do anything wrong."

"She basically called you thick."

The dancer rubbed her palms together and stuck them between her knees, "Yeah well, I kinda am."

Santana snapped her head up and stared at the blonde, "No, you're not. You're a genius Britt."

She could see the dancer smile by the way her forehead and face moved, but Brittany had her head dipped, focusing on her fingers. Santana continued to stare until the dancer looked up through thick eyelashes, revealing sparkling blue eyes.

"You think that?" Brittany asks in a hushed tone.

The brunette giggled and moved closer, and removed the blondes hands from in between her kneecaps, linking them together. "I really do."

They look into each others eyes intently, watching them flicker between the orbs. Brittany gulps and Santana watches the way the dancers throat muscles move as she does so. It almost puts her in a trance the way Brittany runs her tongue along her pink lips, moistening them as her blue orbs dart down to Santana's parted ones.

The dancer smiled, revealing a set of brilliantly white teeth and the brunette let out a quiet sigh, one she hadn't realised she'd been holding. A flush crept over her cheeks as she darts her eyes back and fourth between Brittany's eyes and lips, which were now being tugged in between her perfectly straight teeth.

Santana's suddenly aware of what's going on and clears her throat, standing up straight and dropping the dancers hands.

"I should, uh, go." She said in a raspier voice than usual.

Brittany's mouth dropped open as if she wanted to say something but clenched her jaw instead, obviously biting down on the words. "Okay."

The Latina walked towards the door and cups the doorknob, twisting it to the right. She felt Brittany's piercing eyes burning a hole into the back of her head and she pauses, swallowing as she meets those orbs.

"Thank you Santana." Brittany whispered, taking in the intense atmosphere of the situation.

The Latina smiled back, acknowledging the way her heart stammered and throbbed against her ribcage. She flickered her eyes between the door and Brittany, mentally debating whether to stay or not.

_Quinn._

That single word that ran through her mind decided for her. She nodded and walked into the summer air, feeling the wind brush against her heated cheeks as she leant the back of her head against the door. She closed her eyes, and rolls her head back and fourth against the wood,

"What am I doing?" She whispered breathlessly, before pushing off and shoving her hands in her pockets in direction of McKinley High.

Brittany and Quinn didn't attend school that day.

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><p>When she arrived home after school, she wasn't met by her little brother colliding with her legs. Instead she was greeted with the soft hum of the radio, and when she made her way through the house, she found her dad sitting outside on one of the chairs.<p>

"Papi?" Santana questioned as she made her way towards her father.

When she approached him, she saw him sitting with a folded piece of paper and several baby photos. She immediately raised her eyebrows and waited her dad to answer. After a few seconds of silence, she took another step forward and saw his body shaking as if he was sobbing.

Her heart jolted and she closed the gap between them, throwing her arms around him as she crouched on the ground beside the lounger. "Papi! ¿Qué pasa?"

Mario sniffed and wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, removing the tears. He looked at her through dark green, puffy eyes. The wrinkles most pronounced than ever around his aged orbs.

"Mija, I have something to tell you." He whispered, glancing down to the pictures.

Santana furrowed her brows and observed the pictures laying across the table, they were all of her as she was growing up, the first one aged around three months, and the last taken on her 10th birthday.

Panic hit her and she slowly moved away from her dad, noticing the apology already forming in his tears."Qué? What's going on dad?"

Something ticked inside of her, and she remembered Russell Fabray talking about a meeting with her father and Benzino Puckerman. Something was all too convenient about finding her father in this whimpering state and the fact that meeting had taken place earlier that morning.

"Papi?" She insisted, perching on the marble table the photos were scattered on. She leant forward and took his rough hands in her own, soothing him by rubbing her thumb in circles. "Tell me."

He looked up and exhaled heavily, coating the Latina with strong liquor smelling breath. Santana winced and backed away slightly, before taking note of the empty whiskey bottle on the lounger next to her.

"Why have you been drinking? And where's Luis?" She asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

"He's with Mrs Letterman." He answered, causing an image of the greying babysitter to form in the Latina's mind.

Her father shuffled forward in his seat and stared deeply into his daughters eyes.

"Mija, you have to know, I love you. I love you so much and you'll always be my daughter." Mario started, sniffing as she released one of his hands and fingered one of the pictures. "You've always been my baby girl."

She followed his movement and looked deeply into his eyes. Her heart was still pounding erratically, acknowledging the fear in her fathers eyes. "I love you too papi, now what's going on?"

The older Latino forced a smile and Santana watched his bottom lip quiver as if he was about to break down, "When your mami died, God rest her soul, as you know, she left a letter."

Santana nodded, silently confirming for her father to continue.

"And up until now you've never seen the letter."

The Latina furrowed her brows further and glanced to the folded parchment next to the photos, "No. I've never needed too. You told me what it said." She reasoned with a smile.

When she saw her fathers face faulter she squeezed his hands, bringing their eyes together in an intense stare. "Didn't you?"

Mario blinked hard and Santana watched his Adams Apple as it bobbed up and down as he gulped heavily, "No Mija."

The Latina clenched her jaw and flared her nostrils, she dropped his hand and shuffled backwards, widening the gap between them.

"Santana, honey..." Mario stuttered, letting a large breath of air out.

Santana clenched her jaw and anger flashed through her, "Spit it out."

The older Latino dipped his head, stroking several pictures of Santana as a baby and allowing a few tears to seep out his eyes.

"I'm not your biological father." He whispered, not meeting the coffeee orbs glaring at him.

The Latina's heart stopped momentarily, she felt like someone had reached inside her chest and decided to play tennis with her heart. She gulped and stood up, her hands balled up by her sides. She glared down at the imposter who'd called herself her father all these years and felt nothing but intense rage towards him.

The brunette paced up and down, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger in any attempt to calm herself down. Thousands of questions ran through her mind, all of them trying to force themselves to the forefront of her brain. However, one caught her attention and she spun around, piercing Mario with her fiery orbs.

She couldn't shake the horrible feeling growing inside of her chest, telling her the answer she so badly didn't want to hear. Images of her father and the suspect ran through her brain, forming venom to bubble at the back of her throat as she bit back the urge to scream.

Santana rolled her head to the side, "Who is then?" She asked as her neck clicked.

Mario gulped heavily, loud enough for the Latina to hear from two metres away and she saw the answer confirmed before her father could speak it. His eyes glistened with moisture as the tears brimmed behind his dark green eyes and he looked up to the Latina.

"Benzino Puckerman."

Without a word, Santana stormed through the house and out into the night.

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><p><strong>Reviews please! Hope you enjoyed!<strong>


	7. So Quiet You Could Hear A Pin Drop

**SORRY GUYS! DIDN'T FINISH THE CHAPTER BEFORE I POSTED IT AND TOTALLY FORGOT! ADDED A BIT EXTRA ONTO THE END!**

**RE-UPLOADED THIS CHAPTER! FORGOT TO ADD THE ENDING! MY BAD PEOPLE!**

**This is a long ass chapter, like nearly 10,000 words long. So I _really_ apologise for that, but I couldn't put a chapter in the middle because it's all to do with the drama!**

**Hope you enjoy and please review!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>"Fate is not quite as strange as it appears."<br>**_**- John McLeod**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Seven**

Santana sorted through her locker the next day at school, feeling the burn in her temple as the picture of her and Quinn, stuck on the locker door, sent a wave of guilt to crash against her body. She didn't know why she felt like this, technically, she hadn't done anything wrong, _technically. _Well, that's what she made herself believe anyway.

She'd spent the night wandering around the streets of Lima, not wanting to see her 'father', or whatever he was and still being ignored by her girlfriend. She was tired to say the least and the picture gawping at her wasn't helping her bad mood, especially mixed with the almost overwhelming guilt.

"For fuck sake." She muttered to herself as she grabbed her Math book and slammed the locker door shut, alot louder than necessary.

She jumped back a step as she saw Quinn standing against the next locker, Brittanys (of course), staring at her with a Cheerios uniform and an apologetic expression. The Latina tightened her grip on her book hanging by her side as the blonde in front of her chewed on her lip.

"I'm sorry." Quinn whispered after a few seconds of silence, and returned to biting her bottom lip.

The corridoors were emptying fast after the bell had gone. Santana hovered and raised her eyebrows, allowing the head Cheerio to continue.

"I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I just didn't get much sleep that night, as you know, and I was cranky. I just got a bit jealous of you defending Britt. I know I shouldn't have implied she was thick, and I'm sorry if I offended you."

Santana furrowed her brows, questioning the last few words of her apology. "What?"

"Britt told me you reacted like that because you used to watch Scooby Doo with your mom. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

The Latina swallowed, feeling another pang of guilt connect with her chest as she switched hands, taking the book in her opposite one and she reached out and grabbed one of Quinn's hands. She knew it wasn't the reason she defended Brittany, but since she hadn't quite worked out the _actualy_ reason, she nodded and smiled.

"It's cool baby. I'm sorry I called you a bitch." She reasoned, taking a step forward and wrapping her arm around the blonde, pulling her against her chest.

"I deserved it."Quinn whimpered, obviously digging for sympathy.

The brunette pulled the Cheerio back to examine the salty tears falling from her eyes, and decided not to give her what she wanted, that's not how Santana Lopez worked. "You did. But I know you're sorry. So it's all good."

"Thank God, I don't know what I'd do if you were angry at me." The blonde muttered as she leaned in and pressed a quick peck to Santana's lips.

A wave of guilt collided with Santana, but she swallowed down on it and returned the kiss.

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><p>A few hours later it was lunch and Santana was sitting with Quinn and Brittany, along with a few other Cheerios the Latina didn't recognise outside on one of the benches. Rachel was sitting on the opposite side, completely divulged in <em>Wuthering Heights<em>.

The Latina had told Quinn she wouldn't sit with her unless Rachel was allowed, and despite the Jewish girl being reluctant about spending her time with the most popular girls around - who were also the bitchiest, she accepted. But only on the condition she could read the entire time, effectively ignoring the Cheerios.

Santana was thankful, she knew about Rachels disapproval of her and Quinn's relationship, but considering she was the Latina's best friend, she somehow managed to put up with all the interesting nicknames the head Cheerio managed to conjur up - usually consisting of Man Hands, Stubbles, Treasure Trail and RuPaul.

The brunette was straddling one of the benches with Quinn's back pressed to her chest, and her olive arms encircling her girlfriend whose legs were stretched out on the remaining length of the bench.

Brittany was sitting on the grass with four other Cheerios, legs bent and leaning up on her elbows with her head tilting back, absorbing the rare sunny weather. Santana watched her golden locks sway in the breeze after Brittany had released them from the Cheerios high ponytail. She marvelled at the way her pale, slenders fingers pick away at it whenever it tucked itself between her lips or tangled in her eyelashes.

She gulped and felt her heart flutter whilst her lips involuntarily curved upwards into a smile as Brittany turned to meet her mocha gaze, mirroring the smile.

"San? You alright?" Quinn questioned as she sat up and looked over her shoulder.

The Latina's face fell, and her heart skipped a beat in fear,"Yeah why?"

"Your heart just started beating really fast. I could feel it, even through this uniform." Quinn answered, raising an eyebrow at the brunette.

Santana darted her stare towards Brittany who'd now sat up and was listening into their conversation and back down to her girlfriend, "So?"

The shorter blonde followed the diverted gaze and turned to Brittany who flicked her head forward just in time to focus on something the redheaded Cheerio sitting by her side was saying. Quinn jerked her head back and gave Santana a quizzical stare.

"_So,_" She punctuated, repeating Santana's words and pushing off her, "As your _girlfriend_, I'd like to know the cause of it."

Santana swore she saw the hazel eyes flicker momentarily towards Brittany who had her eyes trained on her, but with the guilt and fear mixing together in her veins, she shook her head and laughed. "You really have to ask? It's you."

Quinn's face softened and she snuggled back into the brunette's grasp, lacing their fingers together as she basked in the sunlight. Santana pressed a quick kiss onto her girlfriends temple and looked up to see Brittany who obvioused tried to act unfazed by the interaction, but her eyes seemed to tell a different. story.

The Latina quirked an eyebrow and dipped her head, burying her face into Quinn's shoulder. She hated the fact she was _so obviously_ effecting Brittany. Despite never actually exchanging any words about their feelings or whatever the hell it was, Santana knew there was _something_ there. She didn't know what exactly, but she knew by the consistent sad gazes and intimate moments '_friends'_ definitely _don't_ have, there was something deeper, something between the lines.

She rolled her head against the bone of her girlfriends shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, tightening her grip on Quinn's hands. She loved Quinn. She knew she did. But surely if she loved her as much as she thought, she wouldn't be feeling guilty, like she was manipulating her girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Several screams brought Santana out of her deep throughts and she snapped her head up, immediately glancing to the spot which was vacant by the dancer her eyes instantly seeked. Quinn shot up and twisted her head around, examining the school grounds as what looked like hundreds of students ran out the school screaming and yelling.<p>

The Latina's heard started pounding furiously and she pushed off the seat, standing rigid by the bench as she craned her neck to watch the students terrified faces and widened eyes.

_What the fuck is happening?_

"Santana? What's going on?" Rachel questioned as she tugged on her best friends arm.

The Latina looked down and shook her head, "I don't know."

They both stood watching tons of students pour out any possible exit of the school, clutching at each others hands as Quinn linked hers so they were almost in a line. The blonde was almost scrambling against Santana's side as the teachers started flooding out the school, and sheer panic crashed over every student watching this unusual behaviour.

A loud bang rang through the school area and all the girls flinched. Rachel and Quinn hugged Santana close as the Latina bent down, covering her best friend and girlfriend in reaction to the sound. When she flicked her head up, her heart and body were pounding with adrenaline, and she singled out one scream coming from another student.

"HE'S GOT A GUN!"

Santana paused and widened her eyes.

_It can't be._

"EVERYONE RUN! ISRAEL'S GOT A GUN!"

The Latina clenched Rachel and Quinn's hands tighter and pulled them both so they could hear her over the loud screams around her. "We need to get out of here, now."

The Jewish girl nodded and let go of Santana's hand, disappearing through the bodies. Santana felt Quinn tug on her hand, and before she knew it, she was standing with a crowd formed by Mr Figgins who was clasping a speakerphone just outside the school gates.

The noise eminating from the principals contraption was dulled as the Latina realised the intensity of the situation. Somehow, she refocused and was aware the principal was shouting out names. Quinn tugged on her hand and told her to answer to her name, seeing as apparently she hand't noticed it being called out.

"Here!" She yelled, sticking her free arm in the air.

"Brittany Pierce?" The indian principal shouted, looking around the several heads. Santana whipped her head up at the name and craned her neck, also searching for the dancer.

"Brittany Susan Pierce! Are you here?" He continued. Several mumbles formed around the large huddle and heads turned in search for the Cheerio.

By now several police cars had swarmed around the road, and most of the school grounds were desserted, apart from the few students still exiting the building.

"Has anyone seen Brittany?" Principal Figgins questioned, darting her eyes around the crowd. A young girl, probably a freshman, stuck her hand in the air and the indian man nodded,

"I saw her running passed me just before the gunshot. I think she's inside." The freshman squeaked.

The whole crowd's faces were evident with fear as they turned to look back to the school - which contained a gun weilding maniac and Brittany.

* * *

><p>Santana wasn't entirely sure what happened in the next few seconds. Before she could process the information her legs had already carried her towards the large double doors used as the main entrance as fast as they could, dodging every policeman that'd surrounded the crowd.<p>

She could hear Quinn yelling after her, and she turned her head to see the blonde, a policeman jumped infront of her girlfriend and held her back. Even if the cops weren't there, nothing could stop the adrenaline fuelling her limbs as they powered her through the deserted hallways.

She panted heavily as she slowed down, knowing she was too far into the school to be pulled out. The eerily quiet corridoors sent tingles down the Latina's spine and she suddenly became very aware of the situation.

Someone had a gun. A student had entered McKinley high with a gun and had already fired it.

Santana crouched on the floor, minimising the sound of her movement as she backed up against the lockers quietly. She put her palms either side of her and slid down the lockers, flipping her head in every direction to make the corridoors were clear.

It was strange seeing the high school so empty, and also, incredibly scary. The only noises she could hear were the intensely fast breaths escaping her lips and her heart pounding furiously against her ribcage.

After a few seconds, she'd arrived at the 'crossroads' as the students had dubbed it, still in a crouched position and ears held high in hope of hearing anything. She swallowed loudly and craned her neck around the corners, her back tightly pressed against the walls.

She could feel the sweat brimming on her brow. The situation was so _unreal._ It was like a TV series or something, and despite knowing the intensity of the situation, she was expecting a director to shout cut and to be greeted with her personal assistant and a bottle of water, patting her on the back and saying 'good scene'.

As Santana's dark brown orbs flickered down each abandoned, reticent corridoor, a few glimmers from the floor caught her eye. She twisted her neck, making sure the coast was clear before she headed towards the objects sparkling on the floor. She bent down, and picked up one of the offending items, studying it close and noticing the sharp, ragged edges and consistency of it.

Glass shards.

Her eyes instantly flickered to the door, situated inches away from her and she noticed the centre of the pane of glass missing from the bottom half of it. It was only a small hole... bullet sized.

The Latina whipped her head back, checking over her shoulder once more before pushing it open gently - attempting to dodge the sound formed by the glass scratching the linoleum floor. She managed to do so, but she wasn't greeted with an empty corridoor this time.

A pair of legs lay on the floor, sticking out from a class room and her heart momentarily stopped. She stepped towards the limbs when she noticed a red, dragging stain leading in the opposite direction, starting from the glass shards. She exhaled a shaky breath as she remembered the gunshot.

_Someone's been shot._

Santana gulped against her dry throat, realising that blood could belong to...

"Brittany." She whispered into the painfully silent hallways.

Her eyes flicked back to the legs, which were currently being dragged into the classroom. Her legs sent her back against the wall, crashing silently with it as she cupped her hand over her mouth.

_"Don't any of you dare fucking move, otherwise.. I'll blow your brains out."_

The Latina widened her eyes and she twisted her head, raising her ear to hear the voice better.

_"Especially you Puckerman. No big moves. You've chucked me in the bins one to many times. And I'm not gonna take it anymore. Got it?"_

A wail accompanied the voice and Santana squeezed her eyes shut. She knew that voice, she'd heard it question students in the corridoor as they rolled their eyes and stepped away from the man. She'd seen the loneliness shade between the eyes as _that_ voice had bellowed through the hallways.

Jacob Ben Israel.

* * *

><p>The door shut loudly, jolting the Latina from her braced position. Once she checked the voice was clear, she crept towards the classroom and crouched even lower, making sure she couldn't be seen through the two glass panes next to the entrance. She needed to confirm her assumption, and see who he'd been talking too. Brittany, Noah or whoever else, she felt the immediate urge to rescue whoever was inside.<p>

She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips into an 'o' shape as she exhaled in fast breaths. With her palms and shoulders pressed against the painted cement walls, she twisted her neck and peered through the glass.

Rachel was sitting in the corner, her knees pressed to her chest as she rocked back and fourth. She followed her best friends hand which was connected to a large, tanned one, belonging to her half-brother, Puck.

She immediately narrowed her chocolate orbs and watched the way the jock looked at the Jewish girl with protective, adoring eyes, whilst his hand worked circular, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Santana trained her eyes on her best friend who smiled at the jock, the corners of her mouth pulling up into a a smile she'd only seen once before, to Finn Hudson, Rachel's elementary school work buddy who she'd majorly crushed on.

Anger flashed through the Latina as she watched them interact silently, and she knew her best friend was horridly hung up on her half-brother, her _enemy._

Her eyes darted towards the centre of the room which was occupied by a pacing boy with a fluffy, Jewish looking afro and a handgun gripped tightly in his right hand. Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose as she waved the weapon in the air in distress. He was muttering to himself, his mouth moving a mile a minute and his eyes were squeezed tight behind his thick, black rimmed glasses.

It was then when she noticed the legs she'd seen minutes before. A girl, Junior maybe was lying face down on the floor, with another girl rubbing circles onto her back as she perched over the motionless body.

_"I didn't want to do that. I didn't mean to hurt her. She was screaming."_

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, noticing the lack of blood in the classroom. He _hadn't_ shot the girl?

_"So you hit her over the head with your gun! What the fuck Jewfro!"_

The Latina shot to Puck, who was glaring intently at the weapon wielding student as he growled the words. His teeth were gritting, his hard jaw set into a tight clench.

Rachel leaned towards the jock and rubbed up and down his arm, soothing the anger which diminished slightly at her touch. The reaction was instant as his muscular figure sunk into a hunch as soon as the Jewish girl had touched his arm.

_"I didn't mean too! Fuck! I don't- I have no idea what I'm doing. It's all your fault!"_

_"How!"_

Santana looked at Rachel who's chest was now pushed forward in an aggressive position, obviously challenging the Jewish boy. Her mind switched back to the blood trail, which was now racing through her mind and snapped back into ninja mode, ignoring Jacob's reply.

She slid down against the wall, returning to her crouched position as she headed away from the classroom. She had no idea how many other students Jacob had rallied to join him in his attack, if any. She didn't know if she was to turn the corner and be greeted with a 9mm smiling at her.

So she stepped lightly over the glass and back to the drying, red liquid staining the linoleum floor. Her feet carried her along it, trailing through the long, quiescent hallways which she checked repeatedly, making sure they were empty before continuing.

The Latina's expression immediately fell as she watched the trail approach the library doors, which were locked, according to the key lodged in the other side, visible through the glass paned door.

_Someone's in there. Bleeding._

Her heart bashed painfully loud against her chest and she swallowed harshly against her quivering throat. Her stomach was flipping with fear and anticipation as she slid a bobby pin out of her hair, twisting it and sliding it into the lock.

She'd done this several times after her mother had died. Her father went out a few nights after the death, and drunk until he couldn't drink anymore. She'd been pretty sure he was goign to give himself alcohol poisoning by the amount of liquor he consumed on a daily basis. She'd usually go out in her dad's Toyota pick up truck and pick him up from whichever bar hadn't yet banned him.

She'd have to carry him from the bar, watching the several witnesses shake their head in disapproval and disappointment at her father whose daughter had to physically lumber his drunken body out the door, because he couldn't possibly move on his own. Santana's father usually lost the house key, and she'd taught herself to pick locks so they wouldn't struggle when arriving home.

So this lock was easy as pie. After a few twists and turns, the key popped out the other side and dropped to the carpet silently.

_Thank God for fabric._ Santana thought to herself as she winced in preparation for the cling which never came.

The brunette pushed her palm against the middle frame, easing the door open silently as she craned her neck to check the deserted library. She'd basically searched the whole school for the blonde she was determined to find, so apart from the canteen, the library was her last hope.

Santana, still crouched, walked into the library, eyes darting around to check her surroundings. She wasthe same height as the bookcases, and if she wasn't crouched (which was causing her knees to ache due to the awkward angle they were bending at and neck to feel strain at the dip) she would be able to see over the shelves.

Due to the current situation though, she decided a tiny ache was a hell of a lot better than a gunshot to her body. Her hands shook with fear as she craned her neck down every aisle, pressing her back against the wooden ends as she passed.

* * *

><p>When she came to a final one she inhaled deeply, but before she could exhale her ears perked up at the sound of a muffled whimper. She straightened her neck and pressed the back of her head against the end, listening intently as she heard another one, which sounded more like a sob than anything.<p>

She'd completely forgotten about the bloody trail, and when she looked down she realised it curved around this corner. Whoever was injured and bleeding, was in the next aisle.

Santana didn't take a chance as she heard the next sob. She could tell the owner of it from miles away. She spun around the corner with no hesitation and her heart dropped at the sight.

Brittany screamed quietly "Ah!"

Then followed it up with a whimper as she returned to clutching her leg which was seeping red liquid. The Latina ran to her side with no consideration for her safety, if there was any other gun weilding maniacs around, and slung her arms around the blonde who was shaking.

"Santana." The dancer whimpered, burying her head into the brunettes black t-shirt cladded shoulder.

"I'm here B, I'm here."

The Latina rocked Brittany back and fourth, trying to comfort her with her movements. Her eyes darted back down to the covered wound and she reached out, placing her palm gently over the back of Brittany's hands which were pressing against the wound. The dancer flinched and sobbed harder,

"It hurts San, it really hurts."

Santana's heart dropped and she squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she would do _anything_ to make Brittany stop hurting, to take the pain away.

"I know Britt, I know. We're gonna get you out of here."

Brittany looked up into Santana's dark chocolate orbs with watery cerulean ones. The brunette gulped, feeling the dancers pain as she gazed deeply into her eyes. The tears spilled out the blondes eyes, causing the brunettes heartstrings to tighten at the sight as she wiped her thumbpad across Brittany's cheeks.

"I can't San, my leg- it hurts. I-I ca-can't move, i-it hurts too m-much. Pl-please don't m-make me m-move. Please." Brittany begged, resting her forehead against the Latina's until their hot breath mixed together.

Santana cupped her pale cheeks and tilted her head up slightly so they were eye level.

"Okay Britt, we'll stay here."

The blonde smiled weakly and Santan allowed their bodies to fall against the bookshelf. The Latina suddenly became very aware of how very _alone_ they were, and she shuffled, pressing her back to the bookshelf with her legs bent and feet planted on the floor.

Brittany mirrored her position, but clasped her hand around the wound as her other hand fell limply to the floor, palm up. The brunette tilted her eyes downwards, acknowledging the hand and slid her own into the dancers, lacing their fingers together.

Santana's heart bashed against her chest. All the adrenaline slowly disintegrated, somehow, she started to relax. And she couldn't help but think that it was the effect Brittany had on her. The blonde turned and looked at her with watery eyes. Santana could see the loss of blood take a toll on the dancer as her eyes grew hazy, and face pale.

The brunette shuffled over until their thighs were touching. She ghosted her hand over Brittany's wound and back up her body until she reached her hair. Santana marvelled at the way the dancer made her feel, when she wasn't even touching her. It was like she could see the sparks form in the space between the olive and cream skin.

She reached a lock of hair and Brittany gently rested her head against the Latina's shoulder as Santana brushed it behind her ear.

"You need to stay awake Brittany. Stay with me." Santana whispered, stroking the blondes hair reassuringly.

"I can't San. My eyes... They're closing on me."

The Latina tilted the dancers chin upwards with her forefinger until they were staring deeply into each others eyes.

"Tell me something." Brittany asked, widening her eyes as if she was entranced by the Latina.

Santana's heart flipped and fluttered at the same time. She saw blue eyes sparkle and a small smile graced the dancers face. Had she just mirrored the sparkle? "Like what?"

"I don't know, anything San.."

The Latina panicked, she could feel Brittany slipping away from her and she knew she couldn't show it. The dancer would only panic more if Santana started panicking and that's something she _really_ didn't want.

"Benzino Puckerman is my biological father."

Brittany's head would've snapped up if she had enough energy, but instead it moved upwards, moving their heads closer together. "What?"

"My da-Mario, told me yesterday. My mom wrote a letter to him when she died," Santana inhaled deeply, internally wincing at the memory of her mother, "And he told me that she wrote to him. But instead of saying that my 'half-brother',"

The brunette noticed the blonde wince, and mentally noted to question her about it.

"Isactually a fully blood related sibling, he made up some bullshit lie about my mom going on a school trip where he met Benzino."

Brittany's blue eyes blinked slowly, and opened so slowly Santana was sure it was taking everything the dancer had to keep them that way.

"So now, everything in my life is just a lie. My brother, Luis, is now my step brother, and I'm also fatherless - so now, basically, I'm pretty much on my own."

Santana dipped her head, and exhaled a long breath, one she wasn't aware she was holding. She felt the dancer shuffle beside her, and a long, cool finger press underneath her chin, tilting it up.

"You'll never be alone."

The Latina could see the honesty shading ocean blue orbs, and she heard the _because you'll have me_ left unsaid and she nodded with a tiny smile.

Brittany's eyes sparkled at the curve of the brunettes lips, and coffee eyes momentarily flickered to sumptuously pink lips, just as blue eyes darted to darker ones. The Latina gulped and felt hot, sweet breath blanket her face.

The urge to close the gap between them was almost becoming overwhelming as Brittany ran her soft tongue over perfect lips, so the brunette lent back reluctantly, away from the blondes touch.

_Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn._

She repeated several times in her head, mentally noting the girlfriend. She cleared her throat, and hopefully the obvious awkwardness as the dancers face fell with rejection. Santana had found her nail cuticles increasingly interesting as she didn't know how to respond to the situation and felt cerulean orbs burn into the side of her face.

* * *

><p>"Puck and I broke up." Brittany stated suddenly after about thirty seconds of silence.<p>

Santana felt something bubble inside of her chest, a warm, tingling sensation spread all over her body at the information and she looked away from the blonde, nodding and looking like a complete idiot.

She wasn't entirely sure what the hell was happening inside of her mind and body, but she could feel fluttering, flipping and smiling all combining together to create this weird feeling that seemed to cause her to feel out of place.

Thousands of questions ran through her head, she could feel them appearing and disappearing as more flowed into her mind, replacing the previous ones. Her eyebrows furrowed though, after detecting the _lack_ of sadness in Brittany's toned and turned.

"Why?" Santana questioned, pressing her inner forearms onto her kneecaps and clasping her hands together in mid-air.

Brittany shuffled, hissing at the wound and her eyes fluttered. The brunette could see the loss of blood slowly taking over the dancer, and she turned, pressing one leg into the ground and moving closer.

"Our relationship just wasn't what it used to be. We'd been growing apart for a long time, and when I told him about it after Brett's party, he got all angry and defensive and I told him to drop it."

Santana grabbed the edge of her shirt sleeve and tugged, leaving a satisfying ripping noise to form in the air as she tied it around Brittany's leg, pressing it to the wound and trying to slow the bleeding.

The dancer flinched and smiled weakly, revealing a glimmering set of brilliantly white teeth. It caught the Latina's breath, and she swallowed audiblly to remove the newly formed lump. _Fuck,_ even when Brittany was bleeding and almost passing out, she was still astoundingly beautiful.

Santana mulled over the information, and focused on finishing the knot, twisting the fabric delicately between her olive, nimble fingers.

"San?" Brittany asked breathlessly.

The Latina snapped her head up, hearing the dreery tone lacing the blonde voice. When she saw the dancer sway gently from side to side she lurched forward, and cupped the pale cheeks between her hands.

"I'm here Britt Britt, stay awake for me."

Urgency covered the brunettes tone and a small smile appeared on Brittany's face as if she could sense it. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Santana smiled back and raised her eyebrows when blue eyes were covered by fluttering eyelids.

"Stay awake B. Stay with me." She whispered, losing the smile and replacing it with a panicked expression.

"I-I... I don't k-know i-if," Brittany swallowed and swayed a little more, "If I-I... Can st-stay awake m-much longer S-San."

Fear jolted through the brunette's body, sending sparks piercing the fibres underneath her olive skin. She didn't know how to keep Brittany awake, she didn't know what to do and mentally, she kicked herself for feeling so useless. She rubbed her thumbpads across the dancers cheeks, feeling the silky smooth texture of her flawless skin pass underneath her delicate fingers.

"I d-don't wan-want to die S-San."

Santana opened her mouth to reply when she felt Brittany bring her pale, slender fingers press against her lips, pushing lightly for silence.

"B-but, i-if I... do, I ju-just want t-to do one f-final thi...thing b-before."

The Latina furrowed her brows and watched cerulean orbs flicker open, retaining their position as they gazed into coffee ones. She gulped silently, and clenched her jaw as she saw the intent in Brittany's eyes. It was as if they shaded just that little bit darker as blue orbs flickered to full, dark pink lips and back up again.

Santana knew what was going to happen, she could feel it. Brittany edged closer, running her soft tongue along her own perfect pink lips before tugging on her bottom one. A pale hand brushed a lock of raven coloured hair behind Santana's ear, before her fingertips lingered on the defined olive cheekbones.

Tha Latina dropped her hands from pale cheeks and slid them down toned biceps, squeezing gently and creating a circular motions with her thumbs. The blonde dipped her head, and flickered her piercing blue eyes through dark lashes with a tiny smirk visible in the pool of her eyes.

Their breathes were ragged against each other's lips, not quite panting but nervous, shakey, repetively consistent breaths. Santana could feel her heart pounding in a rhythm that matched her breathing, and it was like the organ was about to burst out of her chest. The outside world, the gun weilding maniac, Quinn, Puck, no longer existed. Apart from those two, there was nothing.

Brittany blinked slowly and swiped her tongue across her lips one more time before tilting her head to the side. Their noses brushed and lips inched close and closer. Even if she wanted too, Santana knew she didn't had the strength to pull away. So instead of attempting to battle, she fluttered her eyelids closed and moistened her own lips.

The dancer was cradling the Latina's face between her hands and Santana slid her hands up the toned, pale arms until she was cupped Brittany's wrists, almost as if she was going to yank her forward and close the gap even faster. But instead she sighed heavily and felt Brittany shudder as her hot breath blanketed the blondes face.

Goosebumps became visible along Brittany's arms and Santana shivered in return to the feeling. The dancers fingers were lightly stroking the Latina's jawline, and she inhaled deeply before inching even closer until they could both feel the sparks of electricity jolting between the millimetres seperating their lips.

Santana smiled, and before she knew it Brittany had brushed her lips lightly over her own, so lightly that the brunette would probably wonder later on if it'd actually happened. Despite the touch being so gentle and quick, the brunette was already amazed at how soft and addictive Brittany's lips and kisses were.

So she swallowed and leaned forward, this time taking the lead as she nuzzled the tip of her nose against the pale cheek, inhaling the intoxicating scent and kissing the corner of Brittany's mouth. She pulled away and the dancers eyes fluttered open momentarily to meet with dark brown ones. She smiled before allowing one of her hands to release from Santana's cheek as she moved her thumb, tracing the contours of the Latina's bottom lip.

Subconciously, they both closed their eyes and leaned in once more. Brittany's lips opened, just about half an inch away from Santana's and allowed the Latina'a sweet breath to invade her mouth.

Santana took the reigns and leaned forward, taking Brittany's lower lip between her own and sucking as gently as possible. The dancer moaned and the brunette shuddered in response. Their lips moulded together, massaging one another in an intense, passionate kiss.

The Latina could taste Brittany's unique flavour as she flicked the tip of her tongue against the blondes mouth, earning another groan and she twisted her head, alternating the side as she pulled away momentarily for a quick breath. Brittany turned her head the opposite way and pushed their lips together once more, this time taking Santana's lower lip between her own and sucking gently.

The positions had turned and Santana kissed the blonde back, moving her hands down the blondes side and gripping her waist, squeezing gently as their lips moved in sync.

Santana knew what she was doing was wrong, she knew Quinn was probably waiting outside, worrying about the Latina who ran in after her best friend. She knew kissing her girlfriends best friend who'd just been shot wasn't exactly the most productive thing to be doing in this situation, and she knew that kissing her girlfriends best friend was something she was _definitely_ not supposed to be doing full stop.

But despite all the negatives about the situation, it just felt to right to be wrong. It was like their lips were made to fit together, like they were _supposed_ to be kissing each other, and no-one else. This kiss wasn't a erotic, sexual kiss. Their were no tongues involved, just lips massing and moving against each other to show romance and lust. It was everything they'd felt since they'd met, all the longing looks and obvious jealousy, had been built up and packed into this passionate kiss.

The brunettes chest felt like it was going to implode at the amount of firework and sparks shooting through her body. Her stomach and heart fluttered furiously, her mind was racing and hands were feeling the muscles in Brittany's stomach tense as their kiss deepened. She could feel the dancers heart pounding a mile a minute against her chest, mirroring her own heartbeat.

Santana pulled away first, still grasping the blondes waist and she opened her eyes to stare deeply at Brittany's beautiful face. The dancer ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the last of the Latina whilst her eyes were still closed, and Santana grinned at the sight.

She didn't even hesitate as she closed the gap one more time to place a sweet, warm peck to Brittany's swollen lips as she tightened her fingers into the dancers top, massaging the warm skin underneath as it rode up slightly.

This time, the brunette didn't lean back as far and pressed her forehead against Brittany's. The dancer flutterd her eyes open and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she started to sway again.

Santana liked to think the kiss was having the effect on her, and it momentarily gave her an ego boost, but then the situation including the gunshot, her girlfriend, the gun-weilding manical Jewish boy running through the school, all came rushing back to her. Santana swallowed against a dry throat and stared deeply into Brittany's hooded blue eyes.

"We need to get you out of here. You're not going to die on me." She whispered, raspier than usual, still feeling the intensity of the kiss sink into her body.

The dancer graced her face with a small smile before she slumped her forehead into the crook of the Latina's shoulder. Santana furrowed her brows, feeling the panic course through her veins once more and she brought herself forward onto her knees.

Her olive hands found the dancers pale shoulders and she slowly moved into a crouch, her heels pressing against her bum as she slid her hands underneath Brittany's arms, hoisting her up. The dancers squirmed, flinching at pressure applied to the wound as Santana brought the blonde to her feet.

Brittany limped, still leaning heavily into the toned, olive arms and the Latina grounded her position. She knew the blonde wouldn't be making it out without her, and so she bent down, placing her arm underneath Brittany's knees and scooping her up with ease.

"Wrap your arms around my neck." Santana suggested, her breath tickling the blondes ear.

Brittany nodded weakly and did so, brushing the Latina's neck with her fingers and causing goosebumps to form, and her heart to flutter. The brunette straightened her neck and furrowed her brows as she took quiet steps towards the library entrance where she paused. She didn't exactly know why she paused, because from the library doors, there was a fire exit about four or five steps away where they could exit easily.

Santana glanced to her left, where she knew Jacob was still holding Rachel and Puck hostage. She knew she could take advantage and tackle him, throwing the gun away as she knocked him out with a single punch. But the blonde in her arms and the one waiting outside were calling her.

She looked down and Brittany who's head was buried into her t-shirt, and she could've sworn she heard the dancer inhale her scent, which only caused her heart to flutter even more.

She knew her girlfriends best friend wasn't supposed to have this effect on her, she knew she shouldn't have kissed Brittany back, but something inside of her was tugging, telling her she didn't care because it just felt so _right._

And with that, she turned to the left and swiftly exited the building through the library fire exit, with Brittany slowly bleeding out in her arms.

* * *

><p>Santana kicked the bottom of the door with her foot and it swung open. She entered the sunlight of Lima Heights and it highlighted the blondes hair, who was still in her arms. The Latina gasped and she felt Brittany shuffle slightly in her arms at the change in temperature.<p>

Se rounded the school, passing several deserted benches and an empty field and pressed her back against the wall, out of the crowds sight. Brittany's hands unclenched around her and to the sides of her neck, pressing her palms against the pulse point and causing Santana to shiver at the touch.

The blonde pressed a short, sweet kiss to Santana's collarbone, and the brunette felt Brittany smile into the skin. She didn't know why the dancer did that, but right now wasn't the right time to ask. So she pulled away from the dancer and nudged her head up with her forehead until brown eyes were swirling with blue ones.

"Britt, I'm going to get Quinn's attention and she's going to take you from here." She whispered, her face only inches away from Brittany's.

The blonde blinked slowly, fighting the groggy feeling overcoming her as she processed Santana's words. When she realised what she was saying her eyebrows furrowed and she flicked her head up, draining her remaining energy drastically.

"W-what? Yo-you're... l-leaving m-me?" She stuttered quizzically with a worried expression pasted on her face.

Santana swallowed and saw the internal pleading shading cerulean orbs. It took everything she had to tell herself Rachel and, urgh, Puck were still in the building with an armed psycho.

"I have too. Rachel and Puck are inside and I just... I can't leave them." Santana replied, closing her eyes and shaking her head gently.

Brittany reached up, unlatching one of her hands from Santana's neck and placed it on her cheek, caressing it gently with her thumb as an answer. The Latina looked up through her eyelashes and caught glistening clear blue orbs gazing at her adoringly. As if they read each others mind, they both leaned in and pressed their lips together.

Both of them moved in rhythm, closed mouth on closed mouth as they delved into each other's soft and parted when they heard a rustling and turned with wide eyes to see a squirrell darting across the green in front of them. Brittany buried her head into Santana's neck once more and the Latina inhaled deeply, pressing a final kiss into the blonde locks that smelt so sweetly of coconut and pressed the back of her head to the brick and rolled it gently for a few seconds, inhaling and exhaling, trying to even out her breaths. Her mind was racing as she tried to mentally prepare herself for seeing her girlfriend, after kissing her best friend and barely even feeling guilty about it.

After convincing herself to play it cool, Brittany palmed Santana's neck once more, to the pulse point and thumbed over it a few times, effectively calming the Latina's heartbeat with every stroke.

She knew Brittany had an effect on her like she'd never known. No-one had ever been able to do the things the dancer in her arms had done to her, not sexually obviously, but emotionally.

Santana inhaled once final time and peered round the corner, instantly looking for her blonde girlfriend. It seemed like the crowd had multiplied in Santana's absense. It looked like most students were now standing outside, waiting for something to happen. Fear and a strange kind of hope flashed across their eyes as the brunette examined them, still mostly hidden behind the brick wall.

She spotted around five ambulances and several policeman darted in a strategic half circle in front of the school, blocking the crowd from nearing the school when Quinn caught her eye. The blonde widened her eyes and opened her mouth as if she was about to scream Santana's name when the Latina pleaded with her eyes and stepped into the light, showing the pale, limp Brittany in her arms.

Luckily for her, their position behind the bricked wall was in front of the police half circle, so no-one was going to stop Quinn as she ran over with a half-relieved, half shocked expression on her face.

"Santana!" She half-yelled, not loud enough so all the crowd would turn around. "What's wrong with Brittany!"

The Latina swallowed and looked down at the blonde whose face was still nuzzled into the crook of her neck. "She got shot."

She said with sadness lacing her tentatively stepped forward and brushed away a strand of hair that'd fallen over Brittany's face and pressed a kiss to her temple as tears escaped her eyes. "Oh Brittany."

Santana suddenly felt the guilt wave crash against her body as she watched how oblivious Quinn was to her and Brittany's intimate/romantic moment minutes ago. "You need to get her to an ambulance."

Santana stated looked at her with narrowed eyes, "Me?"

"Rachel and Puck are still inside, I need to get them out Q. I can't leave Rach in there, and as much as I hate to say it, Puck's my brother."

"Half." Quinn corrected, examining the loose, blood stained fabric knot around Brittany's leg.

"N-no, b-brother." Brittany murmured, causing the Latina to shorter blonde stood rigid and examined Santana and Brittany.

"What?"Santana shook her head, not wanting to explain whilst the dancer was in her arms bleeding out,

"Not now. Look, take her and don't tell anyone I've gone back in."

Quinn clenched her jaw and flickered her hazel orbs between Brittany and Santana, studying them with narrowed eyes. The Latina gulped, hoping she wasn't sweating nervously under the examining orbs of her girlfriend.

"Okay." The shorter blonde answered after a few seconds.

She smiled weakly at Santana who handed over Brittany. Quinn staggered slightly under the weight, and the Latina raised an eyebrow at the movement. She turned away and headed back for the fire exit, inhaling deeply.

"San?" Quinn called, causing the Latina to turn around quizically.

"Yeah?"

The shorter blonde stepped forward and kissed Santana on the lips as much as she could as Brittany was in between them. "Please be safe."

She whispered into Santana's Latina glanced down to Brittany who was looking at her through a half opened eye. She apologised with her expression and nodded in response to Quinn's request. She turned and pressed her hand to the door, opening it and stepping in.

Just as half of her body was inside, she was called once more. She leant her head around the metal door, her jaw resting against the cold metal as her hand gripped it, keeping her balanced.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Santana bit her lip and watched Brittany's blue eyes watch her with hope, as if she wished the Latina wouldn't say it back. She darted between blue and hazel orbs and watched Quinn's face scrunch and head crook to the a lengthy silence, Santana smiled and looked Quinn in the eye,

"Love you too."

And then she gulped and walked in, shutting the door behind her as the guilt almost brought her to her knees.

* * *

><p>The school corridoors were still eerily quiet. Every breath that escaped the Latina's mouth caused her to panic.<p>

_Is there be more than one shooter?_  
><em>Could they hear her breathing?<em>

All the questions raced through her mind as she crouched down to the floor, and slid her way along the wall towards the class room occupying Jacob and his hostages. She passed the glass door, which still had the shards scattered in various patterns along the floor.

Just like before, Santana managed to pass over them silently and perched underneath the glass pane of the class, craning her neck to see what the situation was it was an English classroom. She took note of the Shakesperian quotes printed on the walls, the various literature books on the desks which were pushed aside.

Jacob Ben Israel was still standing in the middle of the room, the 9mm pistol welded to his right hand as he banged his left against his temple.

Her eyes flickered to Rachel who was still in the corner, rocking back and fourth. However Puck was no longer by her side, he was on the opposite side, staring at her with concerned, adoring narrowed her eyes at him, it was her instinct after all.

But when she took in how nervous he looked as Jacob headed towards her best friend, it the past weeks, Santana had thought she'd been ignoring Rachel. She thought because of the whole Quinn and Brittany thing, she'd missed spending time with her best friend. However when she looked at the way Puck stared at the Jewish girl, she realised Rachel had been somewhat occupied, just like she had mentally noted to ask all of these things, and somewhere deep inside her chest, she burned with anger.

Rachel had been spending time with her arch nemesis, her enemy, her brother who chucked her into a fucking muddy ditch. But joining the fury, something else sparkled, almost tingled inside of her.

The Latina watched the way her best friend bit her bottom lip, and how her eyes almost glittered when they met the equally adoring gaze of Noah exhaled quietly, and looked around the desolate corridoors, in any attempt to find a weapon, or anything to distract Jacob from harming her best friend.

_And Puck_ she added reluctantly.

"Got it." She whispered as her eyes caught a shiny red fire extinguisher on the other side of the hall.

The brunette turned her head, glancing into the classroom to make sure her position hadn't been revealed before she got on all fours, and crawled over towards the shiny, red item.

_"I promise you, whoever steps into that hallway, is going to die."_

Santana widened her eyes as her breath hitched in her throat. She swallowed audibly and scrunched her face together, hoping she hadn't been seen or heard.

_"Dude you can't do that!"_ The Latina heard Puck shout, she thanked him internally and hovered in her place.

The brunettes hands were grasping the fire extinguisher. Her fingers digging into the cool metal as she supported it with shaking arms. She'd been holding the heavy item for too long and could feel it slowly dropping out of her clutch. Instead of allowing it to drop, she made a last minute decision and took it out the holder, and lowering it to the ground. Bit by bit, it approached the ground, and despite the trembling arms, she managed to place it on the floor silently.

_"Watch me." _She heard Israel say.

Her heart was pounding furiously, a thousand beats a minute and she panted even faster. Her breaths were becoming shorter and faster as she heard footsteps from the classroom louden, as if Jacob was about to exit.

_Had he heard?_

Santana mentally questioned footsteps stopped and Santana exhaled heavily. Leaning the back of her hand against her forehead where the skin was damp. She licked her lips and felt relief wash over her body as her body relaxed into a slumped, crouched position.

Her hand lent against the top of the extinguisher and she craned her neck to peer into the classroom where Jacob was standing next to Puck and Rachel. Her best friend had her forearms against Puck's chest, whilst his arms were wrapped around her waist.

She tightened her grip on her hand, and just as she did, she watched the pin loosen from the jumped and caught it, seconds before it hit the ground and squeezed her eyes shut.

Her heart was still beating as if it was about to explode through her rib cage and she winced at how tightly her fist was curled around the small, metal object. She listened expectantly, and after a few seconds, her fears were confirmed.

_"Stop!_" Rachel yelled causing Santana's eyes to widen.

Jacob _had _heard _that_.

As an instinct she dropped and pushed herself across the linoleum floor towards the wall where she braced herself against it, shoulder blades digging into the concrete wall and palms pressed against it.

The door clicked and Santana gasped, before clapping her hand over her mouth and watching Jacob Ben Israel step out into the corridor, clutching the weapon.

* * *

><p><strong>Please tell me what you thought! Review and I hope you've enjoyed this long ass chapter!<strong>


	8. The Troubles Ahead

**Right, well um apologies for the cliffhanger on the last chapter. **

**Have to admit, having a large writers block at the moment, and this chapter is pretty shit. but I've now written a plan, and have got a whole thing lined up. I promise there's going to be more Brittana and less Quinntana in the upcoming chapters!**

**Summary:** Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

* * *

><p><em><strong>"There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment you must choose your direction."<br>**_**- Lucas Scott**

* * *

><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Eight**

Santana bit her tongue, and held her breath as she watched him step into the hallway. He paused, not noticing the Latina about a metre away, crouched and braced against the wall near him and turned.

"If any of you try and run. I _will_ shoot you." He said, his voice not suiting the threat.

The Latina blinked slowly and attempted to slow her heartbeat as she feared it was _so_ loud the Jewish boy could hear her.

"Especially you Puckerman. You move an inch and I'll kill you. Guess you could call it payback for all the garbage drops." Jacob sneered, waving the gun around aimlessly in the air.

"Fuck you Israel." She heard Puck say in a gravelly voice, laced with what she could only make out to be fear.

A strange sensation entered her chest, almost like she had the urge to protect _him_.

* * *

><p>She pushed it aside and focused on keeping silent as Jacob turned right, away from the Latina and down the corridoor.<p>

As he disappeared around the corner, she took that moment to dive into the English classroom where she was met by a startled group. Rachel and Puck were both staring at her with wide, shocked eyes and the rest of the class mirrored their expressions.

"San!" Rachel whispered loudly, not wanting to notify Jacob of her presence, "What are you doing here?"

The Latina pushed up off the floor and headed towards the window, where she used her forefinger and thumb to pinch open the curtain and peek out. More policemen were lined up, and she saw a large, black van with SWAT printed on the side of it standing idley by the side of the crowd, which she noticed had doubled, maybe even tripled.

She turned back to the Jewish girl who was standing in front of Puck, almost defensively. Santana noticed how nervous she seemed, and it wasn't the _I'm-gonna-die _kind of nervous, it was the _shit-I've-been-caught_ one. She quirked an eyebrow and flickered to Puck who looked at her with narrowed eyes.

Her coffee orbs traced down her best friends arms to her hands, which were linked with Pucks by her side, and she scoffed.

"I've come to help you actually." She answered, clenching her jaw with anger.

Rachel sensed it and flipped off Puck's hand which were now possessively wrapped around her waist. "So what's the plan?"

Santana stared incredulously at the Jewish girl and back to Puck who was staring down at her with the exact same expression.

"Well, I was thinking when he comes back, I'll hide behind the door with a fire extinguisher, and smack him over the head with it."

Puck nodded in approval of the plan, and then Santana scowled at him, causing him to stop. She was suprised at how easily he gave in, considering he usually would've answered with a snarky or sarcastic comment about her mother or her status.

"Awesome." He said, curling his lips up into a smile.

_What the fuck?_

The Latina smiled back wearily and grabbed the extinguisher inside the classroom before positioning herself behind the door. She closed it quietly and raised the item above her head as she heard footsteps approached.

Puck and Rachel widened their eyes, but returned to their original positions, per Jacob's requests and awaited silently. All the other students inside the classroom approved of the plan and just watched gingerly as Santana inhaled deeply.

Jacob stepped into the room, waving his gun, and with one last breath, Santana stepped out and cracked him over the head with the fire extinguisher. His body fell lifelessly to the ground as her heart smashed against her chest.

All the students, including Santana, Puck and Rachel all stared at Jacob's limp body, sprawled out on the floor. The Latina lurched forward and grabbed the gun, before clicking the button on the side and allowing the magazine (which contained the bullets) to fall onto the floor.

Rachel ran towards Santana and threw herself at her, hugging her best friend and thanking her. Puck joined a second later and despite the large urge to push him away, she accepted his gesture and hugged back. She furrowed her brows at how strange he was acting, and how easily the plan proceeded.

After a few minutes of cheering, all of the hostages walked out of the main doors, and Santana couldn't help but feel incredibly uneasy about the situation.

_Was that really it? A fire extinguisher to the head and he's down? All of this, for that shitty ending?_

She stopped in her tracks at the top of the steps as she saw Quinn hugging Rachel and Puck. Her parents, yes _plural_, were standing by the side waving their fists in the air with Santana's little brother by their side. Mario, Maria and Luis were standing hand in hand, cheering on the Latina who'd saved the day and she stared wide eyed at them.

_What the fuck is going on?_

Before she could step down towards them and ask exactly that question, a body crashed into hers. She turned to meet a mouthful of blonde hair as arms wrapped around her waist. She returned to gesture, but when the blonde looked up, she wasn't met with hazel orbs, she was met with bright blue ones.

"Brittany?" Santana asked in a disbelieving tone.

The dancer nodded and leant forward, pressing their lips together in a sweet, caring kiss. She gasped and pulled back, eyes meeting with Quinn who was standing a few steps down, grinning largely.

"Quinn, I can explain." Santana started, but was met by Brittany who cupped her cheeks and kissed her again. "Brittany! Stop!"

She pushed away from the dancer, but Brittany only held on tighter, and brought her lips to Santana's ear.

"It's okay," The blonde whispered, "She knows and she's happy for us."

The Latina furrowed her brows and darted towards Quinn who nodded and carried on smiling. Her mind was racing, her heart beating faster and faster and she took in her surroundings.

Suddenly, everything had disappeared. Luis, Mario, Maria, Quinn, all had just disappeared. There was no McKinley, no crowd of people, no police, no cheers. All that remained was herself and Brittany.

They were back in Santana's house, lying on her bed, staring face to face with each other.

_What the hell is going on? _She questioned herself as she looked around her room in disbelief.

The blonde reached over and traced Santana's jawline, leaving her fingers to linger up her cheek and her thumb to run over the Latina's bottom lip, snapping her out of her confused state.

"I love you." Brittany whispered after marvelling at the Latina's features.

Santana sat up, removing herself from Brittany's touch which her body and mind yearned her to go back too. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut before focusing on a newspaper clipping pinned on her corkboard opposite her bed.

"San?" Brittany called, grinning adoringly at the Latina who's eyes were squinted.

Santana ignored the blonde and headed towards the clipping, before scanning over the lettering.

**Santana Lopez. Lima's very own heroine!  
><strong>_Santana Lopez, 18, became Lima's first hero as she rescued a group of eight hostages, including her brother and best friend. The suspect, Jacob Ben Israel who entered the school early on the 2nd November, was arrested and given fourteen years in jail at his weak attempt to take over the school.  
>However, if it wasn't for this fierce, determined Latina, the eight hostages may have not made it through the day. She has been awarded with $10,000 as a reward, and as shown in the picture below, she was given another reward.<br>We thank you Santana Lopez! You really are, Lima's own heroine._

Her eyes darted to the picture below, which was of her and Brittany kissing at the top of the steps. Her heart pounded and eyes narrowed even more.

_Surely they couldn't actually put a sexual inference in a newspaper!_

It was if her brain was thumping inside her brain, her facial muscles ached due to all the confused expressions and she pressed her palm up against the wall, supporting herself as her knees weakened.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Brittany asked, climbing off the bed in very minimal clothing and hugging Santana from behind.

"What's going on?" Santana breathed, stepping away from the blonde and out of her embrace. "My mom... She was there... Quinn, was okay with us? B what the fuck is going on?"

"You're everyones saviour Santana. And you're my very own hero." Brittany answered, running a finger up the middle of Santana's clothed stomach and into the valley of her bra covered breasts.

"Britt..." Santana started, fluttering her eyes shut as Brittany slowly unbuttoned her shirt, glancing through thick eyelashes. The blonde pressed her forefinger to the Latina's full lips in a 'sssh' gesture and replaced them with her lips, kissing the brunette firmly.

The dancer pulled away, "They were right."

Santana swallowed audibly, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs as she scanned over Brittany's nearly naked body. The only thing covering her was black lacey underwear and a matching bra, causing the brunettes mouth to dry up.

"Who were?" She asked breathlessly, trying to swallow the arousal building in her stomach.

Brittany smirked seductively and licked her lips, "The newspaper. You _are_ going to get a reward."

Santana quirked an eyebrow, "Being?"

The blonde grabbed the collar of Santana's shirt and twisted her round, before pushing her flat onto the bed and quickly straddling her hips. Brittany bent down, curtaining their faces with her loose, blonde hair and hovered inches away from the Latina's face.

Santana's breath hitched in her throat, as Brittany ripped the shirt open, splaying the buttons over the room, since she was apparently to impatient to unbutton the remaining three.

The dancer lent down and stopped about half a centimetre away from the Latina's lips, so Santana could feel her hot breath blanketing her face and she locked eyesight with the brunette.

"Me." Brittany whispered as she closed the gap, and kissed Santana fiercely.

* * *

><p>Well, that's how she <em>wished<em> it happened.

Santana opened her eyes and she was back in the hallway of McKinley High. She was braced against the wall, hands placed either side of her supporting her weight as Jacob stepped out of the classroom. Her breath hitched in her throat, forming a golf size ball to block her breathing tube.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she stared towards the classroom door, hoping and wishing Jacob wouldn't see her. The Jewish boy took another step so he was fully in the hallway and raised the gun with a trembling hand.

Everything slowed down as he craned his neck to the right, examining the empty coridoor, and Santana knew it was only a matter of seconds before he turned to the left.

_He's going to see you._

_And shoot you._

_If you're going to do anything, do it now._

Her mind was racing. She didn't know what his reaction would be. She'd never done anything to him, but she also never really acknowledged him. Surely Jacob would have some type of vengeance against the Latina because of her girlfriend and new found reputation. She was dating the most popular girl in school for God's sake, and started doing so weeks after her arrival.

Jacob had been there for years, he'd known everyone for thousands of days and no-one had ever two looks at the boy. All they did was taunt, bully and throw him in trash cans. Well, the jocks did anyway.

Her heart and head were pounding furiously, the adrenaline coursed through her veins, prickling her olive skin and she blinked slowly. Instead of waiting, and seeing the unknown consequences in action, she jumped at the chance and threw herself at the Jewish boy. He gasped in surprise as her body collided with his, knocking him to the ground.

Santana quickly manouvered herself so she was straddling him, and much to her distate, she could feel a bulge forming in his khaki cargo pants. Her hands found his skinny, pale arms and she pinned them by his head, securing the gun down which was still clasped in his right hand.

"SANTANA!"

The Latina whipped her head around the see Rachel run out the door, Puck in toe to examine her current position. It only took that second of taking her line of sight away from the Jewish boy for him to wiggle one of her arms out of her clasp and swing his gun weilding arm.

Santana felt a large, sharp pressure connect with her right eyebrow and temple, and she fell to the floor, almost crying with the intense sensation repeatedly pounding at her head. Her hand immediately found the throbbing spot and cupped it,feeling a warm liquid seep out of the newly formed gash.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ASSHOLE!" Rachel hissed as she threw herself to the Latina who was now in a foetal position, clutching her head in her hands so she was kneeling next to Santana.

Jacob chuckled evilly and nervously, and the taller brunette momentarily pulled herself away from focusing on the dull ache in her temple to see the Jewish boy who was standing in the 'crossroads' with the gun pointed towards her and Rachel.

"I swear to fucking God Israel if you don't put that gun down..." Puck started, thrusting his forefinger forward towards the Jewish boy from his crouched position next to Rachel.

"What? What are you gonna do? Throw me in a dumpster? Shove me down the trash shute? Huh?" Jacob said, shoving his gun weilding hand forward several times to punctuate the sentence.

Puck wrapped his arm tighter around Rachels waist, opening and closing his mouth several times, genuine fear pasted across his face as his hazel eyes locked onto the weapon waving above him.

"Yeah," Jacob said with snarled lips, "That's what I thought. Now get away from them."

Santana looked up to her brother who was flickering his sight back and fourth between the Jewish boy, Rachel and herself. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting on his bottom lip. His eyes were shaded with concern and the Latina watched her best friend nod towards him.

He hesitated momentarily, before pushing himself to his feet and releasing Rachel from his grasp. Her bottom lip quivered at the loss of contact and she clutched onto Santana tighter who watched the silent exchange between her brother and best friend.

"Okay, I'm away." Puck said as he back away towards the wall, arms raised, palms facing Jacob in an innocence gesture.

The Jewish boy scowled and wiped away a bead of sweat forming on his brow with his free hand as he switched the aim of the gun towards Puck, and then back to Rachel and Santana. The smaller brunette flinched, and Santana pulled herself up into a sitting position, wincing internally at the gash on her head which was still bleeding before pushing Rachel - who was still kneeling - behind her.

Puck looked at her and thanked her silently, his shoulders loosened slightly and Santana couldn't help but almost smile. However as soon as Jacob caught it, he stepped forward and waved the gun at Rachel.

"You, Berry, get away from Lopez."

Puck lifted his leg as if he was to move forward and Jacob whipped his head around, scowling at the jock who took back his gesture. "Stay back Puckerman of I'll blow your girls head off."

The jock flinched and growled, yes he actually _growled, _like a fucking animal, at the Jewish boy who was laughing at his upper hand. "Good. You not only act and make noises resembling a dog, but you also take orders like one."

Puck snarled and clenched his jaw shut, tightening his hands into balls by his side. "Don't you dare fucking hurt her."

Jacob moved beside Santana, who was watching the whole exchange, noticing the way the Jewish boy acknowledged the obvious relationship between her best friend and brother, and the way Rachel flinched and widened her eyes at Santana after Jacob said _'your girl'._

The Latina looked to Rachel whose eyes were darkened with fear and nodded, pushing her towards Puck who already had his hand reached out towards her.

"NOW!" Jacob yelled, waving the gun between Rachel and Puck. The smaller brunette whimpered and jumped towards the jock, grasping his hand and burying her face into his red, varsity jacket after tucking herself under his arm.

Puck tightened the grip and strategically placed himself in front of her. The Latina nodded in a silent _thank you_ which the jock mimicked her movement as an acknowledgement. Jacob luckily missed this, so he didn't flip his shit and stood behind the Latina, pressing the gun into her dark brown locks and scratching against her scalp.

She nudged forward, trying to move away from the contact, but it only spurred the Jewish boy to push harder.

"Get up." He demanded, twisting it into her hair.

Santana felt several pulls as a few strands tied around the gun and winced as they were slowly pulled out. She looked up to him with a clenched jaw, and with one hand, pushed herself onto her feet, where she slowly rose into a straightened position. Jacob was about two inches taller than her, but she still tried to push her chest up to match his height.

His dark eyes eyes twinged with fear and regret, but Santana could only focus on the restrained anger and revenge built up over the last five or so years, causing him to do what he was currently doing. The Latina cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes, seeing the scared little boy inside of Jacob and knew despite his actions, he really didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"You don't have to do this." Santana whispered, darting back and fourth between the gun and his panicked yet angry expression.

"I do."

The Latina shook her head, "No, you don't Jacob. You have an option not to do this. You haven't really hurt anyone all that much, and as long as you put the gun down and walk out, you'll be fine."

She watched as the Jewish boy contemplated the decision, his finger twitching on the trigger of the gun which was still aimed at Santana. She slowly brought her hand up from her side and up towards the weapon.

Jacob flinched and stepped back, clutching the gun tighter, "Stop."

"Just put the gun down." The Latina said in a low voice. "You don't have to do this Jacob."

The Jewish boy widened his eyes and pushed his circular glasses back with his forefinger, however it just slid down due to the amound of sweat forming all over his face. His fingers were trembling, and Santana watched his finger shake, pushing and releasing the trigger several times.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared, but she also knew she couldn't show it. If Jacob thought he was actually doing what he intended to do, the satisfaction may have got to him and he could've gone all trigger happy on their asses.

"You don't know anything about me Santana. You move here, blending in with all the losers and then one day Quinn fucking Fabray spots you and you're straight to the top. You used to be one of _us_ Lopez, you used to nod at me in the mornings, you used to smile at me whenever I looked at you. But then _they..._"

He punctuated with a wave towards Puck, "

"...Got to you. You started ignoring me, wavering me off whenever I tried to grab you for a quick interview and you just walked off. They took away your innocence and and made you into this status grabbing thing that can't choose between two fucking girls who are basically, exactly the fucking same."

Santana widened her eyes, knowing Jacob was talking about Quinn and Brittany. She turned to see Rachel crooking one eyebrow and Puck looking at her with a half-quizzical, half-confused expression.

"Typical." Jacob continued, "I'd die for a chance with either of them, for even one of them to give me a fucking smile in the morning and you just take everything for granted."

The Latina felt the fury bubble inside her stomach,

"So what, this, all of this is for fucking revenge because I'm indecisive and confused!" She spat, venom lacing her words.

"See there you go again. You think it's all about you Lopez. You think since you got here you run this shit. Since you're dating Quinn and fucking Brittany on the side, you're shit doesn't stink. Well guess what, NEWS FLASH, it does. You're nothing. Your mother would be ashamed of you."

The taller brunette staggered at the mention of her mother. Confusion also collided with her emotions, not knowing how Jacob knew about it. She bit her bottom lip as she knew her suspicions were true. The Jewish boy, despite not really knowing her at all, held some type of grudge against her.

"Do not speak of Maria Lopez. She was an amazing woman." A deep voice said from an unknown place.

Santana furrowed her brows as Jacob spun around, looking for the source when a large, tanned figure stepped out from the shadows.

"Father?" Puck said, with narrowed eyes.

Benzino Puckerman stood tall, his neck straight and chest pushed out. He was wearing his dark, pin striped 'power suit' which kind of showed everyone his status and he narrowed his eyes.

"Noah, take Ms. Berry and the rest of the hostages and get out of here." Benzino said, stepping infront of his son and towards Jacob.

The Jewish boy backed up towards the window, his back colliding with the glass pane as he raised the gun towards Benzino.

"No, st-stay h-here." He said as he waved the weapon in Puck and Rachel's direction. The smaller brunette whimpered and ducked under the jocks muscular arm once more.

Santana hadn't noticed up until now, but most of the other hostages had their faces pressed up against the English class windows, watching the action play out.

"Dad?" Puck muttered with fear evident in his voice.

"Just go Noah."

The jock straightened up and clasped Rachels hand, before waving to the other students to follow him. The smaller brunette shot Santana a concerned, apologetic expression with teary eyes as they disappeared round the corner.

* * *

><p>Before Santana knew it, she was alone in the hallway with Jacob and Benzino.<p>

"Santana, move away from Jacob." Benzino ordered, which the Latina nodded too and stepped back.

The Jewish boy caught the movement and flicked his gun in Santana's direction. "No. Stop."

"Jacob, put the gun down." The suited man said, moving to cover the Latina's body with his own. "Santana hasn't done anything wrong. So move away."

The Jewish boy scoffed and twisted his face in anger,

"This isn't about Santana! CAN'T YOU FUCKING SEE THAT! This is about everyone. She just happened to be at the wrong place and the wrong time. No-one," He sniffed, tears forming behind his dark brown orbs, "No-one knows how I feel. I walk through a sea of people everyday and NO-ONE fucking notices me!"

Santana flinched, knowing the feeling as she spent around two weeks like it when she first joined the school. It was almost hurting her, Jacobs words, because despite her going through it for a fortnight, he'd been going through it for at years.

"Jacob, I'm sorry that you haven't been noticed. But status isn't everything." Santana murmured, looking the Jewish boy straight in the eye.

He scoffed and shook his head,

"You can say that though. You can say that because you've _got status. _Imagine the first day of school here, now think of that every goddamn day of your life for the past five fucking years. Now tell me status isn't everything." Jacob spat, and Santana could only bow her head in defeat as she realised he was right. She couldn't help but feel bad for the boy who claimed invisiblity.

Benzino straightened his back and stepped sidewards, as if he was trying to circle the Jewish boy. "Jacob, just put the gun down. That's all we're asking."

The Jewish boy shook his head, "No. I can't. I've already gone too far."

"No Jacob, you haven't." Benzino added, still moving around in a circle.

Santana swallowed, feeling her heart pound as ran her hands through her hair. She'd completely forgotten about the gash on her forehead, which now left a dried blood stain running down her left temple and cheek.

Jacob's dark eyes turned glassy, and then a single tear dripped down his face, hanging off the end of his chin. Before the brunette knew what was happening, Benzino pounced on the Jewish boy, tackling him to the floor whilst the gun flailed around in the air.

Everything slowed down once more, going into slow motion and Santana widened her eyes, bringing her hands up defensively as Jacob collided with the floor. Benzino looked possessed as he reached for the gun weilding arm and clasped his pale wrist, taking the weapon from his clutch.

"BENZINO! NO!" Santana yelled, but it was too late.

The Latina wasn't entirely sure what happened, but it was only then when she heard the gunshot.

An overwhelmingly excruciating pain formed in her right shoulder and she fell to the ground, clasping it with her left hand. Her heart thrusted furiously against her chest and she wanted to scream, but as she opened her mouth nothing came out.

It was if a fire started in her shoulder, and she couldn't put it out. She rolled along the floor, listening to the struggles between Benzino and Jacob several feet away but not focusing on it.

Her shoulder throbbed, and a warm liquid seeped against her hand. She turned to look at it, when she saw a round hole punched through her white t-shirt, and a red stain forming around it.

The awful sensation was never ending, and she felt her left lung begin to squeeze, and her breaths were shortening whilst becoming agonizingly painful.

Every breath felt like a knife turning in her lung and her vision became blurry. Everything around her slowly faded out, and she could no longer tell what was going on around her.

Chocolate brown orbs rolled around inside her head as she flailed to the ground, almost unable to deal with the intense affliction tugging at her body.

Every movement caused another shot of pain to shoot through her body, and she could barely keep her eyes open, not that doing so was actually enabling her to see anything.

She writhed in pain before her eyes slowly gave out, her breaths shortened and soon enough, she gave into the blackness that swallowed her memory.

The last sound she heard? Another gunshot.

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><p><strong>Review please? Tell me your thoughts? :)<strong>

**I know it was pretty boring but please, keep with me! there's going to be much more Brittana as I now have a plan!**

**love you guys, as always.**


	9. The Incident

**I do apologise for the crappy update. Once you'll read it you'll understand but seriously, I just couldn't be bothered. Majorly lacking inspiration and I had to add a few random bits as a filler!**

**Anyways, hope it's not **_**too**_** crappy - enjoy and please review!**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>"Most of our life is a series of images. They pass us by like towns on the highway. But sometimes, a moment stuns us as it happens. And we know that this instant is more than a fleeting image. We know that in that moment, every part of it, will live on forever."<br>**_**- Lucas Scott**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Nine**

Santana awoke to a strong pair of arms supporting her body from underneath, one wrapped under the bend in her knees and the other in the middle of her back. She could only assume she was being carried as air wooshed passed her hair, flinging it across her face and causing her head to sting.

However, the pain in her chest had somewhat diminished, probably due to the endorphin release. She thought it was pretty ironic she'd learnt about how the body deals with pain in Biology the previous week. So she knew her body was counterracting the agony, and dulling it down to something more bearable.

She was no longer writhing in agony as the arms underneath her tightened. The Latina could only believe that it the state of indescribable shock had finally kicked in, rendering her incapable of much, if any movement at all.

Santana tried to lift her neck, to open her eyes and see the person carrying her, to know what the hell was going on - but her body had other ideas. Everything around her was still blurry, the only sensation her body was feeling was the venous flow of blood coming directly from the hot, burning wound on and inside her shoulder.

It was only seconds later that she heard the muffled sounds of voices around her. If it wasn't for her current state, the activities going on around her probably would've been incredibly loud. She fluttered her eyelids, trying to regain her pupils from the back in her head and her head lolled to the side, unharmed temple connecting with the crisp shirt of whoever was carrying her.

The Latina finally managed to squint, to make out incredibly blurry forms in the shape of people, Quinn, Brittany, Rachel maybe. She couldn't quite tell.

Several hands pressed against her body, and she soon found herself being placed onto something cool and comfy. The spongey sensation pressing into her back and forcing more blood out of her wound, which she could only internally flinch at.

Santana's lids kept unwillingly shutting on her, causing frustration which only spurred on the burning sensation in her chest. Seconds later she gave into the groggyness overriding her eyes and she slipped into the dark.

* * *

><p>"Miss Lopez? If you can hear me can make any type of noise for me please?" A light, feminine voice asked.<p>

The Latina sturred, grumbling slightly whilst trying to conform to the unrecognisable voiced demand. She swallowed against a dry, sore throat, and felt the shock of being awake set in whilst the almost overwhelming groggyness bit at the forefront of her brain.

"Miss Lopez? How about this, can you squeeze my hand for me please?"

Santana felt a cold palm slide into her left hand, and she reluctantly squeezed, feeling the shooting pains run up her arm and through her shoulder. She winced in preparation for the pain, but when she felt nothing she relaxed a little, and let the hand go.

"Okay, and now I need you to open your eyes for me. Take your time as your body will ache."

She fluttered her eyes several times whilst they were closed, feeling the drugged feeling itch at the back of her mind and she scrunched up her face. The brunette scrunched up her face, not wanting to be affected by the light as she knew it would irritate her corneas. However after sucking it up, she inhaled, feeling an intense throbbing ache inside her left lung and squinted.

The sun immediately aimed for her eyelids with a vengeance, and to her dismay, it succeeded. As soon as her lids cracked open the tiniest bit, her brain screamed at her as it pierced her pupils, reducing them to a miniscule size. Everything from Benzino to Jacob, to Brittany and the kiss then to Quinn shot straight back to her mind. She gasped audibly, and then writhered in pain as the ache in the upper left side of her torso throbbed intensely.

"Try not to make any quick movements Miss Lopez."

A young, redheaded woman was stood by her bedside. Her frame was petite and her short hair hanging loosely by her jawline, swaying as she scribbled onto her clipboard. She was dressed in bright pink scrubs, but the thing that caught Santana's eye was the latex gloves she was wearing.

A strong jawed, brunette stood next to her wearing a long, white doctors jacket. Petite glasses were perched on the end of her nose and Santana couldn't help but think it was the spitting image of Rachel in about fifteen years. She pushed the thought aside as the throbbing in her chest intensified as the back of the bed lifted up.

"There you go Miss Lopez. Is that comfortable?" The redheaded nurse said.

The Latina saw 'Nurse Emma Pillsbury' printed on her white hang down badge, and she gave her a quick smile whilst nodding. "Yes thank you."

"Now, Miss Lopez. I'm Doctor Corcoran, how are you feeling this afternoon?"

Santana turned and squinted slightly, as the doctor was on her right side, nearest the window. "Call me Santana, and apart from the whole getting shot thing, I'm just dandy."

The Latina managed to squeak out a small giggle until she saw the raised eyebrows belonging to the brunette doctor and she faultered. "Or if I'm going to be serious, it feels like I'm dying, but it sure is a hell of a lot better than it was."

Doctor Corcoran nodded, "Good. Do you know the extent of your injuries?"

Santana shook her head in response, trying not to make any sudden movements as even the wiggle of her fingertips was causing her chest to implode and burn.

"Well, when the ambulance brought you in the tissues in your body hadn't recieved enough oxygen and nutrients to allow the cells to function, so your body went into shock. Luckily, you went into surgery quick enough and we managed to locate the bullet in time so your organs didn't fail."

The Latina widened her eyes, _fuck did I actually go through this?_

"Your lung capacity had decreased down to 16%, which means nearly two litres of liquid was pressing against your left lung. We had to do an emergency drainage to clear your lungs, so we inserted a rubber catheter through your ribs into the pleu-"

"Doc, not that I'd love to hear this, but the gory details aren't really making me feel much better." Santana interrupted, speaking through a dried throat.

Nurse Pillsbury reached over and brought a cup to the Latina's lips, where she sipped and felt the cool liquid seep down the back of her throat, soothing it from it's dry flame. Doctor Corcoran smiled, noticing the obvious uneasiness of the medical vocabulary and let out a small laugh.

"Basically we had to drain your chest cavity, and when you finally regained around 98% lung capacity, you fell into a coma where you've stayed for the last few days."

Santana gasped at the information, jolting forward, but being instantly dragged back as the squeeze in her chest threw her back down onto the bed. The redheaded nurse lurched forward, easing the Latina down and 'coo'ing her. The immediate urge to snap at the ginger woman bubbled inside her stomach, but she knew despite feeling like a toddler, it was for the best.

"Right, so what does this mean now? How long have I been out for?" The Latina asked, shifting up and burying the back of her head into the pillow.

Dr. Corcoran shuffled, crossing her arms with the clipboard pressed between her forearms and chest. "You've been out for the past four days Santana."

"Whoah." The Latina mumbled under her breath, "Shit. So, you got any good news?"

"You're healing at an accelerated speed, and when we've given you your final tests, you'll be released. Which should be sometime in the next two days. You'll suffer some discomfort in the left side of your torso, but once we've put your arm into a sling, you'll be almost as good as new."

Santana nodded and smiled weakly, before she could answer a rustling from her right brought her out of the conversation and she turned her head to see Quinn and Rachel standing by the door. The blonde's eyes were red rimmed and blood shot, she was shaking in her step and her hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Images of herself and Brittany kissing snapped into her mind and her chest panged with another type of ache, the guilty one. Rachel however stood there, scowling at the Latina who momentarily diverted her gaze towards her after looking at Quinn.

"I'll leave you too it." Dr Corcoran said, walking towards the door where she stopped after seeing Rachel and stared wide-eyed at her.

The Jewish girl crooked her head and raised an eyebrow at the doctors inspection, but after the older brunette said 'excuse me', she just brushed passed her and Rachel returned to glaring at the Latina.

"Hey Q, hey Rach."

Quinn didn't hesitate as she ran over to Santana and basically chucked herself at her. The Latina flinched, expecting pain, but as the blonde was on her right side, it didn't affect her.

"Oh my God San I was so worried about you never do that again why did you run back inside I was waiting outside and ohmygod I can't believe you're okay I'm so fucking glad and-"

The tanned brunette giggled and lifted the blondes head from her unharmed shoulder, cupping her face and bringing them eye to eye. The sentence was spoken so quickly she'd only heard the speedy mumbles, "Q, baby, stop. I'm fine. Calm down."

Quinn started sobbing one more, her hazel eyes glassing over and tears flooding out of them. "I w-was s-so w-worried San."

Santana returned to stroking the blondes hair as Quinn buried her face into the crook of her olive neck, nuzzling and soaking the Latina's neck with her salty tears. She looked up to see Rachel standing at the foot of her bed, resting the front of her thighs against the footboard with her arms crossed and jaw clenched.

The Latina immediately panicked and the Jewish girl obviously sensed her best friends feelings and shuffled, softening her facial features and nudging her head towards Quinn as if to say _take-care-of-her . _Santana nodded and returned to stroking her fingertips through her girlfriends blonde locks in any attempt to sooth her.

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><p>Around ten minutes later, Quinn's whimpers and sobs had subsided and she was now taking refuge in the comfy seat situated next to Santana's bed. Rachel was sat by the window on the ledge, peering out the window. Quinn's pale hands were cupping Santana's right one and hazel eyes were gazing into dark chocolate ones.<p>

"So who came to visit whilst I was out?" Santana asked non-chalantly, like being in a coma was a normal thing.

"I came everyday, of course, along with Rachel. Your dad and brother have been with you most of the time, but Luis wanted some food so they've gone to the cafeteria. Benzino and Noah even came to visit yesterday." Quinn answered, trailing her fingertips up and down the back of the Latina's hands.

"You met my dad?" Santana asked, wincing at the word _dad._ Despite having an intense hatred for the man for lying to her, he was her father. Biologically, maybe not, but he'd raised her and loved her, made her into everything she was today.

"Yeah, he was here when you arrived and Luis came later. They're really nice San." Quinn said softly. The Latina instantly felt another guilt pang strike her heart strings as she watched how much her girlfriend loved

Santana cleared her throat, noticing the missing person but not wanting to seem to obvious. Her mind was swarming, trying to find the least suspicious way to put it, and suddenly it clicked.

The blonde looked up, and searched deep brown orbs that were staring at her quizically. Suddenly her breath hitched, and the question lodged like a golf ball in the middle of her throat, fearing that her girlfriend could sense the obvious question. Quinn straightened her back and looked at Santana with innocent eyes, completely unaware and childlike.

A buzzing noise broke the Latina out of her guilty conscience and she could've sworn a light layer of sweat formed on her brow. The blonde looked at her phone, and furrowed her brows before glancing back up to her girlfriend,

"Excuse me while I get this babe." She said, leaning over and kissing Santana on the forehead before escaping out the door.

Santana watched and bit her bottom lip, knowing the guilt was increasing everytime she saw the blonde. She turned back, feeling eyes boring into the side of her head and looked at Rachel who had her arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised.

"Go on then, get it out." Santana muttered, shuffling into a seated position.

Rachel pushed off the ledge she was perched on and headed towards the Latina's bed, where she fluffed the pillows to create a more comfortable position for Santana. "I don't know what you mean Santana."

The Latina scoffed, "Berry, just spit it out. Your my best friend, I think I know when you're pissed."

"Nope. I'm fine."

Frustration bubbled inside Santana's chest, and suddenly it snapped, like an elastic band. "Fine, if you don't wanna start I will. What's the deal with you and Puckerman?"

Rachel physically flinched away from the Latina, scowling and shaking her head with a nervous laughter, "Nothing."

"Sure. Definitely seemed like nothing with those longing, adoring stares and hand holding." Santana retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms and raising both eyebrows in the middle of her forehead.

The shorter brunette exhaled heavily, and turned away from the Latina's glare as she paced across the room. "I'm tutoring him."

Santana couldn't help but feel the betrayal impact her chest. Her best friend was going behind her back and tutoring the one guy she hated the most, the one guy who'd treated her like she when she'd done _fuck all_ wrong. The frustration and anger mixed together in her stomach, creating an unknown concoction that caused venom to drip from her teeth like a snake.

"And you _conveniently _forgot to tell me, you're best friend about this? How could you Rach? You know what he's like, you know how much of a douchebage he is."

"Like you _conveniently_ forgot to tell me about you and Brittany?" Rachel snapped, spinning on her heel to bite back at Santana's comment.

The Latina relaxed her shoulders, not realising how tense her body was and how her injuries were protesting against the strain. "What?"

"You and Brittany. There's obviously something there. Unlike you, I'm _only_ tutoring Noah. There's nothing more than a tutor/student, platonic relationship. Can't say the same for you and your best friends girlfriend."

Santana heard the truth of the words, but didn't want to reveal anything to her best friend as she herself didn't know what the hell was going on, "There's _nothing_ between me and Brittany. Jesus christ Rach. Can't I be friends with my best friends girlfriend without wanting to fuck her?"

The Jewish girl shook her head and laughed, yes _laughed_. Santana narrowed her eyes and craned her neck forward.

"Whatever Rach. Why did you lie to me about Puck?"

Rachel shifted her weight onto her right leg, cocking her hip to the side. "Because I knew you'd react like this. I was _ordered_ by Mr Schuester to tutor him, if I could've had it any other way I would've. But over the last few weeks-"

"Weeks?" The Latina repeated, not knowing the extent of this relationship going on behind her back.

The Jewish girl nodded, "Yes, six to be exact. And don't start going off on one about how much of a bad guy he is, because he isn't. He's actually quite sweet and I know you don't believe it but I'm not stupid, I'm not naive, and I _can_ handle myself. So save it Santana, I don't want to hear what you're going to say about him. He's different."

Santana had no idea what to say. Despite the intense betrayal growing inside her chest, alongside the pain, the words just weren't forming inside her brain. She knew Rachel wasn't stupid, or naive, but it was just her instinct to try and protect her best friend from someone she knew to be an asshole.

The Latina glanced down to her fingertips and unfolded her arms before picking at the cuticles as Brittany ran through her mind. She wanted to know where she was, _badly_, but considering the conversation she'd just had, it probably wasn't the best idea.

"She was scared to come you know." Rachel said as she stepped towards the chair, previously occupied by Quinn and sat down.

The Latina stayed silent, and she saw her best friend shuffle in her seat, so she was leaning towards Santana, "Britt. She was scared you wouldn't want to see her."

"I know who you meant." The taller brunette replied. She exhaled heavily and threw her head back against the pillow, so she stared up at the ceiling. "Why?"

"I was going to ask you that."

Santana furrowed her brows and turned her head to look at the girl next to her, "I-I... I don't know. I've been in a coma, so I'm pretty much as clueless as you are Berry."

"It's deeper than that San, I know it and so do you."

The Latina felt her face fall into an emotionless expression. She looked forward and then down in sadness, her eyes glazing with moisture. Rachel shuffled closer and clasped Santana's hand between her own;

"Look San, I'm not gonna lecture you and start saying that you should break up with Quinn if you and Brittany have something-"

Santana opened her mouth but Rachel stopped her, the Latina could feel the fury bubbling inside her chest. She loved the Jewish girl, she really did. But there was something just so goddamn annoying about her, because despite being Santana's best friend, she couldn't understand or even start to comprehend what the Latina was going through and how confused she was.

"-Let me finish. Anyway, I'm not here to lecture you, I'm here to be your best friend and support you. So whatever you're doing, please try and sort it out. You need to clear your head, because you're obviously conflicting with yourself. And if you and B-"

Suddenly, something snapped inside of Brittany. She whipped her hand away, stopping her best friend mid sentence and glared at her with narrowed eyes, "No Rachel stop. I'm with Quinn."

Rachel stared at her incredulously, her eyes wide and shaped eyebrows furrowed.

"You don't know what's the fuck is going on, and you're wrong! It's that simple. You're making up a situation in your head so just stop trying to get involved in my life and fucking focus on yours for once in your goddamn life! Quinn is _my _girlfriend, and I love her. _Her_, not Brittany. Puto infierno!"

Santana immediately regretted her words, she felt the venom evapourate as soon as the Spanish rolled off her mouth. She awaited a reaction from Rachel, her head turned out the window and away from her best friend.

Seconds passed and the Latina still hadn't recieved a reply from her best friend. She turned to meet the back of Rachel's head, and followed her gaze at the door where a tall, blonde, blue eyed beauty stood, hobbling on crutches with one leg raised behind her. Their eyes met, chocolate orbs staring into watery, crystal blue ones.

A lump formed in Santana's throat and she saw Rachel turn her head slowly, eyes burning with fury and sympathy as they stared at the Latina. She flickered momentarily towards Rachel and saw the silent statement in her head, _we'll talk later._

"Hey Britt." Rachel chimed, craning her head to look at Brittany who was still focused on the Latina.

She shook her head, and darted her gaze to the Jewish girl, forcing a weak smile as she shuffled her weight, gripping the crutches tighter until Santana could see the skin on her knuckles turning white.

"Uh, hi Rachel."

Rachel obviously sensed the tense atmosphere and pushed up from the seat, stepping towards Brittany and engulphing her in a small hug which the dancer returned with a single arm, as her other was still supporting her weight.

"I'm glad you're alright." Rachel said as she pulled away, "My mom wants me back so I've gotta get going. Bye Britt, bye Santana."

The blonde nodded and smiled, and the Jewish girl smiled back and turned to Santana. With a single glance, she warned her with her facial expression to _be nice_ before she exited the room, palming Brittany's shoulder as she went. Blue and brown eyes met in an locked gaze, but they were suddenly snapped out of it by the reappearance of the Jewish girl.

Rachel ran inside the room and leant in towards Santana. The Latina furrowed her brows as hot breath tickled her ear and she turned to listen intently to what her best friend was whispering;

"She did by the way. She visited everyday, after your Mario, Luis and Quinn left at 4. Every evening until visiting time was over, until the last second."

The Jewish girl backed off and headed towards the door. Brittany had been watching the exchange, and was biting her lip, obvious nervous by the whispers. Santana didn't read to much into it, but she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter at the information. Just as Rachel smiled apologetically and walked behind Brittany, she turned,

"Visiting times over at 9 by the way Britt. Just in case you didn't know."

Santana furrowed her brows, wondering at the randomness of her best friends sentence. The blonde shuffled, stretching her injured, long leg forward and back again.

"Oh, right, I didn't know. Thanks Rach." Brittany answered, trying to look as innocent as possible.

It was only then that the Latina realised why Rachel had said that.

* * *

><p>Santana cleared her throat and shifted her body into a seated position, pressing the pillow into her back to support her back.<p>

"Hey." Brittany said, breaking the awkward atmosphere.

"Hi." Santana answered, gulping audibly whilst trying to push down the golf-sized ball lodging inside her throat.

Blue and brown eyes met, searching each other for any trace of emotion, but as Santana scanned the mezmerising cerulean orbs, she couldn't find anything. After a long silence of apprehensive looks, the Latina smiled weakly and glanced down to Brittany's leg, taking in the white bandage and crutches.

"Take a seat, don't wanna put to much pressure on your leg." Santana said as the blonde hobbled on her spot.

Brittany nodded and hopped the once occupied seat by Rachel and sat down, scooching as far away from the brunette without physically moving the chair. "Thanks."

Santana could hear her heart quickening its pace, her throat drying as the intoxicating aroma of the cheerlead wafted towards her. Coconut and vanilla filling her nostrils and sinking deep into the cavities of her lungs. She combed her fingers through her dark raven locks, feeling several knots and imaginging just how awful it looked.

"How is it?" The Latina asked, trying to distract herself from her obviously disheveled appearance and sudden change in emotions. Brittany furrowed her eyebrows in a _I-just-got-shot-how-do-you-think-it-is_ look and the brunette stifled her laugh, knowing it wasn't the best time.

"Like, what's the extent of the injury?" Santana elaborated, which the blonde smiled weakly at.

The blonde dipped her head as if she was examining her own leg, and then glanced up through thick lashes. Santana gasped quietly at how gorgeous Brittany looked when she did this, her heart flipped several times, but she pushed it down, throwing away the tingles that shot down her spine and she swallowed slowly and harshly.

"It's only flesh wound. I lost a lot of blood but a few blood packs sorted that whilst you were out. Doctor Corcoran said I'll be off crutches by the end of the day, she just doesn't want the stitches to open." Brittany answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Santana nodded, "Oh, right, well... That's good then."

The Latina watched the dancer fiddle with her fingers, her crutches now resting by the side of the chair as she scuffed the bottom of her converses to the floor. She didn't know if Brittany had heard the conversation between her and Rachel, and if so, how far. Despite knowing Quinn _was_ her girlfriend and that she did _love_ her, something was tugging at her stomach, causing her conscience to scream at her.

Brown orbs flickered between golden locks, pale freckled cheeks down to the smooth skin before hovering over perfectly pink lips. She could feel her body responding to the flavour she yearned for... She could remember the way Brittany's lips felt on hers, how _right_ they felt.

A tingle formed on her own lips and she brought her fingertips up to touch them. It was then that blue eyes darted up and watched the Latina reminscing over their kiss, Santana knew Brittany knew what she was thinking about - and both girls gulped loudly.

Neither one of them wanted to bring it up, Santana knew if she brought it up the overwhelming urge to remind her of the mind blowing kiss would form and she wouldn't be able to restrain herself from doing it again. They both stared at eachother, blue and brown swirling together in an intense visual battle, and cerulean orbs flickered momentarily down to Santana's plump lips.

Something snapped inside the Latina, causing her to word vomit. Maybe it was the way Brittany automatically licked her lips whenever Santana knew her own were being stared at, maybe it was the growing tug inside her chest telling her she _should_ be kissing Brittany, and not Quinn. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact both girls had unknowingly moved towards eachother, Santana leaning as far off the bed as possible without falling off, and Brittany pushing on her palms to raise the distance between them.

"Britt-"

"It was a mistake." The blonde spluttered out, their faces only inches away from each other.

Santana whipped her body back into the seated position, and just as fast Brittany had returned to hers. It happened so fast the Latina couldn't help but think whether the unconcious leaning, the obvious gravity pulling them together had just been an illusion. But the emotion shading azure eyes said different.

"What?" Santana asked, squinting her eyes slightly.

Brittany gulped and widened her eyes, removing any obvious emotion from her face, "In the library, things got out of hand. I'd lost a lot of blood, and I really don't know what was going on in my head. It didn't mean anything."

The Latina's heart faultered, and her stomach sunk. It was like being slapped in the face with a whole, wet salmon several times before being shoved in a bathtub of baked beans. Unpleasant and painful.

Her heart was throbbing against her ribcage, her mouth drying with every second that ticked by as she searched her brain for a response. She watched the uncertainty taint the dark blue eyes, but when it morphed into an unreadable expression - the right words snapped straight into the brunettes brain.

"You sure about that? You wanted to kiss me, you know it and I do too."

Brittany jolted back at the unexpected response. Santana was pretty sure the blonde expected her to say 'yeah, sure, definitely' or something along those lines, but since the challenging words escaped the Latina's mouth, blue eyes looked at everything and anything in the room, apart from the chocolate orbs seeking hers.

The brunette cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes to scan the blonde for any hint of hesitation. It'd felt so long since the words had come out her mouth, and the only evidence to show Santana had actually said them was the look in Brittany's eyes.

"Like I said, mistake. Shouldn't ever have happened."

"So we're gonna pretend it didn't happen, go back to being just friends?" Santana said in a challenging tone.

Brittany swallowed, "That's all we ever were. Just friends. Your my best friends girlfriend, and you're my _friend_. That's it, the way it should be."

"The way it should be." Santana repeated, disbelief lacing her words.

The blonde visibly flinched, watching the hurt as it impacted Santana's chest. The Latina shook her head, knowing what they'd felt in that moment wasn't something that happened between two people who were _just friends_.

Her heart wrenched painfully, not quite being able to decipher what she was feeling. She looked at the blonde who was staring at her with wide, innocent eyes, and anger bubbled in the Latina's stomach. She _hated_ that Brittany could just do that, say one thing and then act completely normal.

"Okay." Santana said resolutely.

Cerulean orbs twinged with darkness, and Brittany opened her mouth to say something when Quinn bounced in the room. Santana watched as the blonde dipped her head after turning to look at the other blonde, and the way her shoulders dropped and blue fire sizzled out her eyes.

The head cheerleader glided forward, and perched on the side of the bed, twisting and leaning her body across the Latina's to place a chaste kiss to Santana's lips.

"Hey babe." Quinn whispered, their libs a hairsbredth away from each other.

Santana flickered between Brittany, who was focused on the floor and then back to gleaming hazel orbs. "Hey baby."

The shorter blonde snuggled into the Latina's embrace, placing the back of her head into the crook of Santana's neck and lacing their right hand fingers together. Quinn's back was half on and half off of Santana's chest, making sure she didn't touch the left side of her body just in case of causing anymore injuries.

"So, what were you guys talking about?" Quinn asked absentmindedly, trailing her left hand fingers down the backs of their laced hands.

Brittany cleared her throat, and answered just as panic set into the Latina, "Just about the incident. Nothing important."

"Yeah, right, the incident." Santana repeated, leaving the real meaning of 'incident' between the lines as she pressed a kiss to the top of her girlfriends blonde locks.

"Can't believe Jacob's dead, but he totally deserved it." Quinn said non-chalantly.

The Latina widened her eyes, "What!"

Quinn sat up, and darted her eyes between blue eyes and brown ones, "Uhm, I thought B would've told you. Jacob's dead."

A wave of something crashed into the Latina and she laid back, pressing the back of her head deep into the pillow as she exhaled heavily, "Shit. I mean, how?"

"He did it himself. Mr Puckerman said he felt awful after he shot you, and just stood by you after he shot you, and Israel raised the gun to his chest and fired."

Santana furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She didn't remember Benzino standing near her. Her memory was blurry and fuzzed, but she was ninety five percent sure he wasn't near her.

"Standing by me?"

Quinn and Brittany both nodded, Santana blinked in disbelief a few times, "The last time I saw Benzino, he was wrestling with Jacob on the floor... and then I heard a shot."

Both of the blondes faces furrowed in confusion, and they looked between each other before shaking their heads.

"Wrestling with him? Benzino never said anything about that..."

Santana strained her face, scrunching it as she tried to remember the events.

"Jacob was holding the gun at me, Benzino lurched for it and grabbed it. That's when I was shot... He was wrestling with him and then I heard another shot..."

The Latina widened her eyes, _did he shoot me?_

Quinn reached over, and stroked her hand over the brunette's forehead, stroking a lock of hair behind her ear in a soothing manner. "Honey, I think you may have hit your head when you fell."

Confusion and anger mixed together inside her stomach, a strange venomous liquid formed in the back of her throat and she snapped her neck towards the blonde, lurching away from her touch as she narrowed her eyes.

"I rememeber what I saw Quinn."

The blonde's face fell and she stared at her girlfriend with wide eyes, "So what are you saying, Benzino shot you then Israel?"

Quinn started giggling and the brunette looked between Brittany and her girlfriend. The dancers face was in an expression that said 'I believe you' whilst her girlfriends said 'are you an idiot'.

"And what if I am?" Santana challenged, looking at her girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Then you're being totally ridiculous. Benzino's the fucking Mayor of Lima, San. Do you know how fucking stupid that accusation is?"

The Latina grimaced, clenching her jaw whilst narrowing her eyes. It'd seemed so obvious, but when Quinn put it that way, why would the Mayor, shoot Santana and then another innocent student? It just didn't add up. So she relaxed her facial features and dipped her head in defeat,

"Yeah babe, you're right. Stupid."

The shorter blonde smiled and leaned back into the Latina's embrace,

"Cool. Can't wait till you get out of here, then I can nurse you myself." Quinn said seductively, winking at the brunette before leaning in for a kiss.

Santana looked at Brittany who was watching her intently. Her eyes hardened and as they stared into chocolate brown ones. The Latina wrapped her arms around her girlfriends neck and pulled Quinn in for a kiss, expecting the dancer to look away. But when she re-opened her eyes, piercing blue eyes were watching her. She looked down to Quinn who was smiling sheepishly at her, and she grinned back.

Brittany coughed and Santana shook herself out of the daze, watching the emotions take control of the dancers face. Despite her cerulean eyes hardening, there's something behind them that's soft, and warm, something that tugs at the Latina's heart strings, and makes her want to be closer to the cheerleader.

However when Quinn nudges Santana's thigh, the brunette shakes herself out of the daze and looks down to her girlfriend who's looking at her quizaically.

"Huh, sorry what?"

Quinn pushes herself into a seated position, "I said they shouldn't be looking after you, I should. I'm your girlfriend."

Santana forced a believable chuckle and ran her palm up the blondes arm, "Yeah babe, I agree."

"Yeah, it's the way it should be." Quinn muttered.

Brittany's head snapped up and Santana's gazed at her. She ran her fingertip up and down her girlfriends pale arm, tracing an invisible line as Quinn nuzzle her nose into the Latina's neck. Santana could see the words flowing in an invisible wave between herself and Brittany, and for a second, she wonders if Quinn had heard their conversation.

But as the blue eyes darkened, Santana could see the obvious want in Brittany's expression. She swallowed audibly and looked down, trying to restrain her lower lip from quivering as her heart sunk through her chest. Guilt and hope mixing together into a painful concoction as her heart tugged in two directions, two blonde directions.

"Yeah babe, the way it _should_ be."

* * *

><p><strong>Seriously lacking inspiration - so I may start my new fic as a little distraction. <strong>

**Hope you've enjoyed, please review? Thanks guys x**


	10. Let It Go

**Serious lack of inspiration, apologies for the shitty quality of this update.**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mothers will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely seperate and an AU!

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><p><em><strong>"Most of our life is a series of images. They pass us by like towns on the highway. But sometimes, a moment stuns us as it happens. And we know that this instant is more than a fleeting image. We know that in that moment, every part of it, will live on forever."<br>**_**- Lucas Scott**

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Ten**

"So Britt, I heard 'bout you and Puckerman. Who's this mystery fella then that made you break up with him?" Quinn said teasingly.

Santana crooked her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes towards the dancer. She could feel how hesitant Brittany was by the way she was shuffling in her seat, and looking everywhere and anywhere in the room that wasn't the Latina.

"Yeah, Britt, who's the guy?" Santana repeated, only to recieve a guilty expression.

"Uh, what? Guy? There isn't one."

The Latina snickered internally, _was that a secret message or just a conveniently picked choice of words?_

Brittany looked to Santana who had an eyebrow raised, and the Latina watched as her choice of words clicked visibally, "I mean, there's _no-one_, at all."

"Oh come on B," Quinn said as she twirled a lock of Santana's hair around her forefinger, "You said you and Puck broke it off 'cause you were feeling guilty 'cause you felt something for so-"

"Things change." Brittany interjected, cutting off her best friend.

Chocolate orbs met cerulean ones, scanning and searching for answers. Brittany's eyes were hard, a blank canvas behind the usually bright blue eyes. Santana couldn't help but feel confused by this girl, one minute she's cheery and smiley, and the next she's hard and cold. The Latina shook her head, wondering how Brittany would feel if in some parallell universe, Santana was the bipolar one.

They were too involved in eachother to actually realise Quinn's question hadn't been answered. Brittany clenched her jaw, slightly furrowing her brows as Santana cocked her head to the side, swallowing hard. The shorter blonde in the brunettes arms sat up, noticing the exchange and raised an eyebrow.

She waved her pale hand around in space inbetween them, "Hello? Earth to Brittany and Santana."

Brittany was the first to snap out, flickering towards quizzical hazel orbs, "Huh?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes and looked between the two girls as blue eyes met brown ones once more. Santana was still completely focused on the dancer, her eyes searching for silent answers, and the shorter blonde nudged the Latina's thigh. "Santana?"

Reluctantly, Santana pulled from her daze and looked to her girlfriend, "Yeah?"

"What the hell is going on?" Quinn demanded, her tone slightly louder than usual.

Brittany flinched and gulped audibly. Quinn whipped her head round to see the other blonde looking uncomfortable and back to Santana. The Latina kept her face void of emotion as adrenaline punched through her body in panic.

_Your best friend and I kissed.  
>Me and Britt have feelings for eachother.<br>I'm considering breaking up with you because I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with your best friend, hope you don't mind._

"Nothing."

Hazel eyes darted between Santana and Brittany. The Latina could see her body language being studied by her girlfriend as the dancer pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her crutches and placing one under each arm as she stood by the bed.

"I've gotta get going. I'll see you later."

Santana watched as Brittany hobbled out the room, her strong arm muscles flexing with every movement in a totally distracting manor. The brunette couldn't not stare at the girl, she was mesmerizing and intriguing, confusing and fascinating all at the same time. She knew deep inside there was more to Brittany, and that there was more between the two of them than just friendship.

But with her girlfriend sitting at her side, watching her every move, she tore away her chocolate orbs to stare into slightly firey hazel ones.

"What sweetie?" Santana asked, forced nonchalance lacing her tone.

_Sweetie? What the fuck was that?_

She mentally kicked herself for using such a lame term of endearment, considering her usual nicknames only consisted of two, baby and babe. She panicked once again, hoping her girlfriend wouldn't sense the strange term and question it.

Despite trying to play it cool, the Latina knew under the judgemental eyes of her girlfriend, she wouldn't be able to hide for long. But she sure as hell was gonna try.

Quinn narrowed her eyes, and ran her tongue along the front of her teeth. Santana swallowed silently, trying to sound as innocent as possible as she smiled at her girlfriend, coaxing her to come closer with a wave of her hand.

The shorter blonde cocked her head to the side, her face quizzical and confused as she darted her eyesight down to the tanned hand. Santana watched as Quinn's eyes flickered to the door, and her back flinched into a straightened position.

For a second, the Latina panicked, thinking her girlfriend realised what was going on. But as Quinn relaxed her body, and shrunk back to her side, she exhaled in relief.

"Nothing baby, nothing." The blonde said as she nuzzled into Santana's neck, placing a sweet kiss to the olive skin there.

And for the moment, Santana exhaled in relief, hoping and praying Quinn didn't suspect anything.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Two days later<em>**

Santana returned back to school after pleading Doctor Corcoran to let her go. Quinn had picked her up from hospital, and they'd gone to her house where Brittany was, to both their surprises. After an awkward 'hello' and silent _what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here _look from Quinn, Brittany had handed over some Spanish work Mr Schue had given her to give to Santana, the dancer departed. Santana noticed she was off her crutches and pretty much looked unharmed as she returned to her usual graceful walk.

Wednesday came, and Santana noticed by the English classroom there were several bunches of flowers, a picture of Jacob and a few lit candles in his remembrance. The Latina walk over to the memorial, bent down and placed a white lily funeral wreath down and said goodbye.

Sure, she didn't really know the who Jacob Ben Israel really way, but his words had impacted her more than she'd thought. The Latina started to notice the glassy, watery eyes of other students, noticing their faces as they looked at her when she walked down the coridoor with Quinn in hand. She'd never noticed up until then how envious they looked.

_"Imagine the first day of school here, now think of that every goddamn day of your life for the past five fucking years. Now tell me status isn't everything."_

Jacob's words ran through her mind, and she tightened her grip on Quinn's hand, which was linked with her free, and only available hand. Doctor Corcoran suggested that she wear a sling for a few weeks to take the strain off her shoulder, and that she should be taking everything slowly, considering she had a recently repaired punctured lung . Which also meant, _'no sexual activity or intimate interactions'_ as the brunette doctor had said, causing Quinn to blush and Santana to chuckle.

Everyone stared at Santana, and she wasn't entirely sure if they had been since her and Quinn's relationship started or had only just started due to recent events. She gulped and her blonde girlfriend squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Quinn led her to Spanish where she kissed her quickly. They entered, and were greeted with an unnaturally cheery 'hello' for 9 in the morning by Mr Schuester, and were given a sympathetic nod. Brittany was already in place, doodling on her notepad as the Latina took the seat next to her.

She managed to shrug off her backpack, which was perched on her good shoulder and onto the desk. However opening it was another thing. Somehow, she needed to hold the back in place whilst unzipping it, which had never been easy with _both_ hands as it lodged every now and then.

Santana twisted her body awkwardly, trying to hold the bag in place with her strapped shoulder, where her fingers poked out the top whilst biting the bag and unzipping it with her free hand. However at her third attempt, long, slender fingers made an appearance and took out her Spanish book, notepad and pen.

The Latina looked to Brittany who retracted her hand as soon as their fingers brushed and focused intently on the picture of a dancer she'd been drawing. The image almost looked professional, as the body of the figure on the paper was perfectly shaped, one leg raised into mid air whilst the other was raised so the dancer was on the ball of her foot.

The shading was impeccable and the outline of the figure didn't have any hairlining that most drawn pictures usually have. It was drawn in berol which only astonished the brunette more because this had not only been free hand, but it was done without any need for an eraser.

_Damn, she can draw._ Santana thought as she leered at the blonde next to her. Brittany was so focused, her forehead was scrunched and blue eyes gleamed at the paper, narrowed slightly in concentration. The brunette could make out Brittany's tongue poking around in her mouth as the skin on her porcelain cheeks moved in a sweeping motion every now and then.

As soon as Brittany noticed, her face fell into an emotionless, hard expression and she placed her Spanish book over the drawing. She turned her attention to Mr Schuester who'd started babbling about taco's or sombrero's, or something like that, not even bothering to look at Santana who internally flinched at the obvious dismissal of her leering.

After about ten minutes of the greasy-haired teacher talking, he handed round a few worksheets which Brittany immediately got started on. During that time, the blonde had shuffled as far away from the Latina as she could, moving her books so they were nearly falling off the edge too.

Dark brown eyes narrowed as she noticed just how far the dancer had moved and something snapped inside of her. Santana leant over, closing the distance until her breath was hitting the blondes Cheerio uniform cladded shoulder.

"Did I do something to offend you?"

Brittany looked up, surprised by the Latina's question. Something sparkled in her azure orbs, like a silent yet urgent _no._

"Because you've moved all the way across your desk and you've been ignoring me since I got out of hospital." Santana continued, trying not to look too hurt.

"Uh, no. Didn't notice I'd been doing that, sorry." Brittany answered as she focused on the worksheet in front of her.

Santana shook her head, picked up her pen in her right hand and attempted to start on the sheet. Her eyes flickered from side to side examining the answers. She didn't even really need to read over the questions again and again because the answer was in the back of her mind, she was fluent after all. But the Latina just couldn't concentrate, her brain was racketing back and fourth and sprinting laps.

"Santana?"

The Latina looked up to meet sparkling blue eyes staring back at her. She gasped silently as she watched the way they glimmered, almost lighting up the room as the blonde battered her eyelids several times.

"Do you need some help?"

Santana almost snapped, sometimes she just couldn't handle _bipolar Brittany_. Chocolate orbs flickered between the Spanish sheet and back to the blonde, staring incredulously.

_She knows I'm fluent?_

"You're left handed." Brittany stated after a few seconds, obviously sensing the Latina's confusion.

Santana narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows, "Yeah..."

The dancer dipped her head slightly, and allowed a small smile to cross her face as she licked her lips. Confusion hit the brunette and she raised both eyebrows, not knowing why the girl in front of her was telling her about herself.

"Your shoulder San. How are you supposed to write if your arms in a sling?"

The Latina looked down at the blue support on her shoulder, which caused her hand to pull across her chest underneath her black, leather jacket. A blush crawled across her face and she chuckled lightly,

"Oh, yeah."

They both giggled together for a few seconds until Brittany reached across the table and took the pen from Santana's right hand. Pale, slender fingers brushed lightly across the olive skinned hand, causing goosebumps to form immediately. Jolts of electricity sparked at the touch and their heads snapped up, as if their touches had _actually_ caused real sparks.

Brittany whipped her hand away and grabbed her own pen, trying to conceal the obvious red flush to her ears. Santana cocked her head to the side, knowing the blonde had felt the same thing and she allowed the corners of her mouth to turn into a small smile. A thought popped into her mind, and she glanced around the room to see Quinn laughing with an asian jock, who she thought was called Mike Chang, but wasn't entirely sure.

The dancer had returned to her work, and her left hand laid limply on the desk. Santana studied it and realised how strangely placed it was. Without another thought, she placed her hand across the table to let her fingertips trail down the insides of Brittany's fingers, marvelling at the silky, soft touch.

Brittany looked up, blue eyes searching brown as they flickered between the two. The brunette could see the sides of the blondes mouth turn up slightly, as if she was to smile, but then it faultered as she looked over the Latina's shoulder.

Santana twisted her neck to see hazel eyes staring at the table. Quinn's face was hard, her jaw clenched and eyes squinted, and the brunette whipped her hand away before the head Cheerio looked up at her. The Latina smiled weakly at her girlfriend, who was darting between her and Brittany, before she forced a smile back and returned to her work.

She turned back around, to see hurt blue eyes staring at her. Santana continued to stare at Brittany with an apologetic expression, but the dancer gave her a small smile and returned to her work after letting out a heavy sigh.

The brunette bit the inside of her cheek, switching between the two blondes focused on their work.

_Quinn, she's your girlfriend and she loves you._

_Do you love her?_

_Shut up of course you do, she's your girlfriend for fuck sake._

_But Brittany..._

_No buts, and no Brittany._

_Why are you pretending?_

_I can't, I love Quinn._

_Can't or won't?_

Santana inhaled deeply, going over the conversation with herself in her head. Was it that she couldn't do anything about Brittany, or that she wouldn't? Her heart spun and she steadied herself on the desk by bracing out one hand. Brittany caught her waist and kept her in place, her blue eyes glinting with sincerity.

"Are you alright?" She whispered, her soft, innocent voice sending tingles up and down the Latina's spine.

"Yuh, uhm," Santana cleared her throat, very aware of the fact Brittany's long, slender fingers were curled around her waist, squeezing gently, "I'm fine."

"Okay." Brittany answered bluntly, letting go of the Latina and returning to her work.

There was only one word Santana could think of that moment as she felt hazel eyes burning into her temple; _Fuck._

* * *

><p><strong><em>A week later...<em>**

It hadn't gone unnoticed by Santana that somehow Brittany had evaded her and Quinn for most of the week. The tall dancer had been invited out several times by the Latina and her girlfriend to go to the cinema, or up to the viewpoint to stare over Lima - but there'd always been some type of excuse;

_"My mom wants me to look after my little sister."_

_"I've got loads of Spanish work in for tomorrow."_

_"I don't have any money."_

Santana watched her girlfriends face scrunch suspiciously everytime Brittany came up with another excuse. Quinn had come over to the Latina's house, and she'd ranted for hours on end.

The worst part about it was that Santana had to physically bite her tongue, to ensure that she didn't allow yell at her girlfriend, 'cause frankly if Quinn had asked why she was defending Brittany, Santana wouldn't have known what to say.

Brown orbs searched the corridoors at every opportunity, she waited by her locker, knowing Brittany's was next to her just trying to catch a glimpse of the blonde she so badly wanted to see. Except everytime, she was met with the eery silence of a desolate hallway, one completely void of the piercing blue orbs she so badly needed to see.

It was a Friday when the brunette got a text. She'd just finished up in the garage, fixing Mr Schuesters car when Quinn had asked her to pick her up from practice at 7pm.

Coach Sue had kept the Cheerios behind as apparently one of them showed a leg tremble the day before. Santana didn't really understand the ins and outs of cheerleading, but apparently that tremble warranted an extra two hours of intense training.

The Latina finished up in the garage and locked up, by the time she reached home it was 6.30pm so she had some time to waste. She entered the house, not bothering to look around for her dad, and assuming her brother was still at his friend's house as her legs weren't attacked as soon as she opened the door.

Her muscles ached, her neck was sore and if she could have the choice she would've just climbed into bed and slept the weekend away, but ever since she'd dated Quinn, most of the time sleep was off the agenda as they spent nearly every night together, and when the Latina wasn't with her girlfriend, the guilt ate her alive and prevented her from catching any sleep.

She rubbed her neck after throwing down the keys and climbed up the stairs. On days like this, she really wished she hadn't got an attic bedroom that involved climbing up _another_ set of stairs. However, knowing she didn't actually have a choice, she entered her bedroom and shut the trapdoor, concealing her existence.

Santana's tanned hands were covered in black smudges and she quickly glanced in the mirror to see her outfit sporting similar marks. She was glad she had a never ending supply of white tank tops and jeans, because if she didn't, she'd surely be screwed.

The Latina stripped off her mucky outfit and slid on a fresh, crisp pair of dark blue jeans and a black tank top. She pulled her hair out of the high ponytail and let it flow loosely over her shoulders. Just as she was applying a brush of mascara and lipgloss, a familiar voice caused her to snap her head around.

"What the..."

_"C'mon girls! If we don't nail this Sylvester's gonna have us back everyday for the next week! Now straighten those legs Dalgato and keep your head high Smith!"_

Santana furrowed her brows and walked over to the small roof window, where she peeked out and saw a large green field filled with red and white figures. She smiled as she watched a familiar blonde cartwheel across the feel, and her heart swelled in against her ribcage. Without hesitation, she opened it and climbed out onto the roof where the school field was in plain view.

She gingerly sat down, bringing her knees up and leaning her forearms against them as the blonde pranced and glided around the field, flipping and looking just so damn _flawless_. It was so distracting that she almost didn't see the arm waving frantically about three metres away from the dancing blonde.

Even though Santana was a good fifty metres away from the field, she could still see the quizzical hazel eyes glaring at her. She gulped, realising she'd been watching the wrong blonde and smiled at Quinn. Santana's girlfriend gave a weak smile in return and continued to yell through speakerphone.

Every now and then Quinn would look up to the Latina, and Santana knew she was waiting for chocolate orbs to snap back to the never-ending legs that flew and flipped through the air. However the Latina trained her eyes on her girlfriend, knowing her conscience was slowly eating her up as an almost overwhelming urge to watch Brittany spin came over her body.

* * *

><p>Around twenty minutes later, Santana was leaning against the side of her pick up truck outside McKinley. Her arms were crossed and she was rolling the back of her head side to side against the cool metal. She was tapping her finger impatiently and humming mindlessly when a flash of blonde hair caught her eye.<p>

She snapped her head forward and watched Brittany descend down the front steps, red Cheerio skirt swaying in the wind along with her hair which was out of its usual ponytail.

Santana restrained the smile tugging at the corner of her lips and bright blue eyes met brown ones. Her brain and heart were arguing internally, debating whether to speak to the blonde she so badly wanted too, or whether to remember Quinn and stay put.

Her legs decided for her, and the Latina pushed off the truck, taking a few steps forward to meet the blonde.

"Hey." She said softly, her voice catching slightly in her throat as the blue orbs sparkled.

"Oh, hi Santana."

The brunette furrowed her brows at the use of her full name, "You al-"

"Quinn's just coming." Brittany interrupted firmly, pulling the duffel bag on her shoulder up slightly with her thumb.

Santana narrowed her eyes, "So?" She said as her eyes widened.

She hadn't meant to say it the way it came out, but the way it did sounded like she didn't care. Brittany cocked her head to the side and shuffled her weight onto her opposite leg.

"So... She's your girlfriend. And I'm assuming you're here to pick you up."

"Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you too."

Brittany exhaled, "Why would you wanna talk to me?"

"Because I like you." Santana blurted out, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

Something softened inside the deep blue orbs, and Santana smiled weakly. Brittany swallowed audibly and stepped forward, searching dark brown eyes for something. Santana didn't know what for, but she could feel her heartbeat quickening as the Cheerio closened the gap between them.

The Latina watched a pink tongue poke out between perfect lips and moisten them, her throat ran dry at the sight and Brittany dipped her head.

"You like me?" She whispered, her words obviously lining with a double meaning.

Santana looked into glistening azure orbs, her heart beating so loud she was starting to blush. She could feel the blondes hot breath tickling her cheeks, blanketing over her olive skin and she gulped again.

_Just tell her._

_Tell her what?_

_Like you don't know._

_No. I don't. Quinn._

"Brittany..." Santana responded quietly, closing her eyes as she relished in the sweet flavour of the dancers breath.

"What's going on?"

Santana and Brittany jumped apart, realising how close they'd been as Quinn appeared next to them with narrowed hazel eyes. The Latina had no idea how long her girlfriend had been there and she looked to Brittany. Her veins coursing with fear as her girlfriend darted her gaze back and fourth between the two girls.

The dancer glanced at Santana, as if she didn't know what to say and the Latina's heart tugged in two directions. Those directions being Brittany and Quinn. Brown orbs flickered between the two Cheerio's, her brain and heart screaming different things as she looked into suspicous hazel orbs and hopeful blue ones.

Santana swallowed and reached out, tentaively placing an arm around a blondes waist, pulling her closer to her body.

"Nothing." Brittany said firmly, watching the olive arm snake around Quinn's waist.

Santana watched Brittany's face drop, and jaw clench. She dipped her head in guilt, not wanting to watch as blue eyes darkened in obvious disappointment and scuffed her shoe along the floor.

_Stop feeling guilty. You have _nothing_ to feel guilty about._

"You sure about that?" Quinn asked, motioning between the two girls and their previously awkward position.

"Yes. Nothing's going on, right San?" Brittany replied, her eyes locking with chocolate ones as she did so.

Santana gulped, sensing the jealousy in the taller blondes eyes, "Yep. Absolutely nothing."

* * *

><p>Five minutes later Santana and Quinn were sitting in the car with Dashboard Confessional playing softly in the background as the blonde was playing with the Latina's fingers as one tanned hand lay gently in her lap.<p>

The Latina wasn't even registering her girlfriend's touch as her fist tightened around the wheel. Brittany raced through her mind and her heartstrings tugged painfully at the memory of their kiss.

_Had it really meant nothing? _

_Was it just a mistake? _

Santana turned her head to look at Quinn who was focusing on the town outside as they passed through the high street.

Her shoulder ached at the strained pressure of driving, but apparently it was almost impossible to do anything remotely fun without a car. So she'd asked her doctor if it was alright to drive, and despite it being highly advised not too... She did. It was Santana after all.

Something itched at the back of her mind. Santana knew Quinn loved her, she knew Quinn was _her girlfriend_ and Brittany wasn't. But she also knew there was something more about the tall, blue eyed blonde that caused her to feel all this guilt. The Latina shook her head lightly, making sure her girlfriend wouldn't sense it as she looked back to the road.

"San?"

The Latina cleared her throat, "Yeah babe?"

"There's a party tonight. Puckerman's. He's invited us."

Santana stayed silent.

"San?" Quinn pressed, squeezing Santana's hand a little.

"I heard."

The Latina heard her girlfriend gulp, "And?" Quinn asked.

"And, I think we should go." Santana replied, forcing a smile.

The blonde grinned widely, "Really!"

Santana nodded, "Yeah babe." She muttered.

Brittany flashed through her mind, she wanted, no scratch that, _needed_ to know why they broke up. Whether Brittany was telling the truth or not. It seemed stupid, but if she didn't know, everything would just be that much harder. "'Bout time I talked to Puckerman anyway."

Quinn cocked her head, "What? Why?"

The Latina's eyes widened as she realised the last few words had come out loud.

_Shit, shit, shit._

"Uh..." Santana coughed, she strained her mind looking for anything as she felt the hazel orbs burn into the side of her face, "Rachel."

Quinn relaxed her shoulders, "Rachel?"

The Latina focused on the road in front of her, squeezing the wheel tigher than necessary, "Yeah. Noah was acting strangely with her at the shooting."

"Oh." The blonde replied, her shoulders relaxing completely. Santana 'phew'd internally, knowing she'd got away with it. "Well, we'll pick Britt and Mike up at 9 yeah?"

Santana's body went rigid at Quinn's words. She felt her shoulder scream at her, telling her to break herself out the trance as shooting pains rocketed around her body but she didn't give in.

"Britt and Mike?" The Latina replied, trying to lace her tone with as much nonchalance as possible. Quinn nodded in response.

"As in Mike Chang?" Santana continued.

Hazel eyes narrowed, "Yeah. Mike Chang and Brittany. They're a thing apparently."

The Latina felt the same guilt punch her stomach as she tried to force away the burning sensation in her chest. It clawed at her throat and she swallowed harshly, recognising the jealousy as it bit at her oesophagus.

"Oh. Cool." Santana replied.

_Cool? What the fuck._

"Cool?" Quinn questioned, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

The Latina mentally kicked herself for making the jealousy more obvious than intended, "Yeah, it's cool she's moved on from Noah that's all."

She focused on the road, hoping her blonde girlfriend wasn't reading her like a book.

"Yeah.. Sure. _Cool._"Quinn said slowly as she returned to staring out the window.

About two minutes later Santana pulled up outside Quinn's oversized estate and shut off the engine, leaving the two girls in silence. The blonde looked to Santana and opened the door, climbing out before turning and leaning through the window.

"So we're picking them up at 9 okay babe?" She question, reaching down to grab her duffel bag from the footwell.

Santana smiled and handed the bag to her girlfriend, leaving their hands on eachother as the head cheerleader grabbed it. "Yeah honey, I'll pick you up in about half an hour?"

"Okay." Quinn replied as tugged on Santana's hand, causing the brunette to lean over.

The Latina sighed and closed the gap between them, pecking her girlfriend lightly on the lips and feeling the pang of guilt slap her as she did so. When she pulled back the blonde's eyebrows were furrowed, and Quinn was biting on her bottom lip.

"Bye Santana." She whispered, shuffling her duffel bag higher onto her shoulder as she descended down the path to her house.

Santana watched her girlfriend, feeling her conscience tug at her heartstrings and she leant her head back against the headrest, gripping the wheel with both hands tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw.

_Get it together._

With one final glance, the blonde disappeared inside the house and Santana grudgingly turned on the engine, speeding off towards her house.

"Let it go Santana," She whispered to herself as she pulled down her road, "Let it go before you screw everything up."

* * *

><p>At 9 o'clock, Santana and Quinn were sitting outside Brittany's house. The Latina's heart was pounding a mile a minute, she could feel a light layer of sweat forming over her brow and her palms were dampened as they slid around the leather material of the wheel.<p>

_Why the fuck are you so nervous?_

"You alright sweetie?" Quinn asked as she reached across the centre consol and clasped the Latina's hand.

Santana looked to her girlfriend and examined her. Her golden locks were hanging in loose ringlets over her shoulders, her make-up was light but somehow it still enhanced all her best features.

Quinn was wearing a light blue denim jacket covering a short, white laced dress that finished mid thigh. Her creamy, toned thighs were visible and the Latina grinned as she examined just how sexy she really thought her girlfriend was.

_But is that enough?_

The brunette snapped herself out of the gaze, realising she hadn't actually answered her girlfriends question and instead she was just eyeing up her legs.

"Yeah, I'm good babe." Santana answered as she brought Quinn's hand to her lips and kissed them lightly. The blonde smiled and turned out to the window when she tapped the Latina's thigh lightly.

"Here they are!" She exclaimed, nudging her head towards the shadowed figures walking down the path.

Santana immediately had to restrain her jaw from dropping to the floor as she focused on the feminine figure, as soon as it stepped into the halo of the streetlight. She immediately went back to the first day of school when she saw Brittany walking, no, _gliding_ down the hallway.

Her pale skin glowed softly under the dimmed light, her blonde hair hanging straight over her shoulders, with one side pinned up behind her ear. A brilliant set of white teeth illuminated as her mouth pulled into a small smile and her eyelashes were thick and black with mascara.

Brittany's never-ending legs were shown through an incredibly short and tight black thigh that stopped just below her butt and her cleavage was visible through a tucked in, low, sleeveless white top with a black tank top underneath.

As Santana's chocolate eyes roamed up her body once more, taking in her attire she felt her heart sink slowly as Mike's hand was wrapped around the dancers waist, his fingertips digging deeply into the white top. The Latina finally locked eyes with Brittany whose eyes were darkened as she fidgeted with the black bag she was carrying.

"Hey guys!" Quinn yelled as she hopped out the car, pulling Mike and Brittany into a hug. "Let's get going, get our drank on."

Both Brittany and Santana laughed at the same time, causing Mike and Quinn to look at the quizically, matching expressions as their eyebrows were raised. Cerulean and chocolate orbs met quickly, but broke away just as fast with embarrasment as their faces reddened slightly.

The Latina looked up the Quinn as she cleared her throat. She felt blue orbs examining her tight red dress cladded body and she looked up to see exactly that. Brittany was fixated on Santana's tanned legs, trailing slowly up her body as she gulped audibly. When the piercing blue eyes met chocolate ones, the Latina smirked slightly and narrowed her eyes, questioning the blondes gaze.

Brittany looked away immediately and pushed closer to Mike who was completely oblivious to the silent interaction. The dancer forced the corners of her mouth into a smile and cleared her throat,

"So... Let's get going?"

Quinn stood with Santana and Brittany either side of them. She was darting her gaze back and fourth between the two with her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. The Latina widened her eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping her girlfriend hadn't witnessed the looks as she dipped her head and reached out to lace their fingers together.

"Let's." The head cheerleader responded firmly, leaving their fingers loosely intertwined as she dragged Santana back to the car.

* * *

><p>By 10:30, the party was in full swing. Several people had occupied the upstairs bedrooms and weren't exactly being quiet about it. The music was booming through the walls, vibrating the floor and furniture and Puck's front room was crowded with hot, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding up against each other. It was almost difficult to breathe in the room, let alone move through it.<p>

Santana had been leaning against the same wall for about half an hour, her foot pressed against the wall as she toyed with the red plastic cup in her hand, filled with her eighth vodka, lime cordial and lemonade.

Her head had began to swim on her fourth, but she decided to drink more after seeing Quinn sitting on the sofa next to some guy called Julian, giggling at his lame jokes, and making sure it wasn't the fact that Brittany and Mike were over in the corner, feeling each other up whilst the asian boy kissed her neck.

However, her fist clenched as she watched Brittany turn her head in her direction, blue eyes meeting brown ones as Mike ran his palms up and down her side. The brunette watched the blonde with intent, sipping every now and then and never breaking eye contact.

It was only when Quinn walked over to the Latina that Brittany tugged Mike's head up, and crashed their lips together in what looked like an incredibly sloppy kiss. Santana felt her chest burn, her heart seize and stomach bubble with bile as she watched the blondes perfectly pink lips move with the asian boys. She watched as Mike ran his hands down to her ass and squeeze, pulling their hips together as he rocked them up against the wall.

Santana flinched and clenched her jaw, crushing the plastic cup in her hand as Quinn touched her forearm. The brunette snapped out of her angry glare and focused on the big, glassy hazel eyes that looked like they were losing focus by the second. She could see how much alcohol the blonde had drank just by the way her body was swaying.

"Heyyyss baaaaaby." Quinn slurred as she fell into the Latina's arms.

Santana dropped the contents on the floor as she reacted to the touch, supporting her girlfriends frame, "Whoah there Q, someone's drunk a bit too much."

The blonde looked up, her eyes shut as her brows furrowed, "No's I haventtttt."

"Sure babe, sure."

The Latina felt her girlfriend nuzzle her nose into her neck, and place a sweet kiss there. Just as she snaked her arms around Quinn's waist, and propped her up by throwing one of her arms over her own shoulders.

"Let's get you home." Santana uttered as she struggled to drag her girlfriends body through the crowd. Quinn wasn't a heavy girl, but with her dead, drunk weight she was.

"Nooooooo. I don'tss wannaaa goes homes." Quinn replied softly.

Her lower lip jutted out into what she probably thought was a cute pout, however Santana knew there was another, certain blonde that possessed an even cuter one.

_Stop._

"Hey," A soft voice sounded over the music. The Latina gulped, knowing the voice anywhere, but didn't bother to turn, "Do you need some help?"

Santana dipped her head, still feeling the raging jealousy course through her veins and knowing the hands that just touched her had been feeling up Mike the entire night.

"No." She replied firmly, tightening her grip on her girlfriends waist as they approached the staircase.

Quinn decided to run her fingers through the ends of Santana's dark locks and press a kiss softly to the neck. The brunette heard Brittany's steps as she followed the couple up the stairs, her palm hovering over the back of Quinn's back.

Santana shuffled Quinn's weight, trying to balance out the weight as she was tipping over slightly, when she felt silky, soft skin graze across her arm that was around the shorter blondes waist. She looked up to see Brittany smiling lightly, and she couldn't help but smile greatfully back at her as the manouevered their way down the crowded coridoor.

"Go to Puck's room." Brittany said, nudging her head towards the end door with 'Puck' scribbled on it in black handwriting.

The Latina nodded, trying to focus on moving her girlfriend instead of the tingling sensation forming on her skin as her arm brushed with Brittany's every other step. Quinn mumled something incoherent into the Latina's skin as they approached the door.

Just as they did, Brittany reached for the door and allowed it to swing open, revealing a large black girl and blonde boy making out on top of his bed. Santana watched their eyes widen as she realised who they were. Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones. A diva and jock, an incredibly unlikely couple that would never work in the 'high school system', as Quinn had dubbed it.

_"Jocks belong with Cheerios and popular people. Everyone knows that. If a jock sleeps with someone who isn't on the squad or isn't deemed remotely popular, immediately gets degraded. It's just the high school system."_

Santana remembered her girlfriend's words and scowled. _Everything's so fucking material in this fucking school._

"Out." Brittany demanded, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her.

The Latina raised both eyebrows. She'd never heard the dancer be so blunt and strict before and to be honest, it was pretty amusing.

"Uh, yes Britt." Sam mumbled as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

"Sorry Brittany." Mercedes uttered, throwing her jacket over her shoulder and brushing past the girls at the door.

The blonde boy followed suit, but hesitated as he studied Quinn, "I-Is she a-alright?"

Santana frowned, not quite knowing why the Justin Bieber haired jock was stuttering. But as she looked at Brittany's hard blue eyes, narrowing at her, she realised that the dancer could possibly look quite daunting to someone who hadn't seen the soft side of her.

"She's fine. Now beat it Sam."

Sam bit his bottom lip as he toyed with the shirt he was clasping in his hands and walked passed the girls. The top half of his body was bare, and his abs were visibly clenching and unclenching nervously.

"Uh, B-Brittany?"

The taller blonde snapped her head around, "What?"

"Are um.." He cleared his throat, puncuating the sentence, "Are y-you gonna tell anyone about me and uhm, Mercedes?"

Brittany tightened her grip on Quinn's dress and clenched her jaw, "If you get out in the next three seconds I won't."

Sam registered her threat and slid out the door, shrugging his shirt on at the same time as he shut the door. Santana tugged the shorter blonde out the dancers grip and laid her on top of Puck's bed, the comforter scrunched up down the bottom of the bed and pillows splayed messily across the top. She shuffled the pillows so Quinn's head laid gently across two.

The sleeping blonde mumbled something into the pillow, and threw her arm over her head as her mouth drooped open.

"Wow, what a sexy sleeper." Brittany commented, snickering slightly.

Santana giggled back, "Yeah, real sexy."

"She is _so_ gone."

"Yeah. _Seriously_ gone. Do you think it's alright to leave her in Puck's room? I mean, y'know Puck and all..." Santana said suggestively, hand gesturing to the box of condoms sitting by his bed.

Brittany sneered, "Yeah. She'll be fine."

"Santananana..." Quinn muffled into the pillow, causing the dancer to straighten her back as she stalked towards the door.

"I'm here baby." Santana whispered, perching on the bed as Brittany hovered by the door. She watched the dancers face harden at the term of endearment, and as her hand reaches for the door handle and flings it open, loudly.

"Britt?"

The Latina furrowed her brows as Brittany left, ignoring Santana as she called her name. She leant over, pressing a quick kiss to her girlfriends head before following suit, and exiting the room.

"Britt, wait." Santana calls,

The dancer continues, a few steps in front of the Latina when Mike trudges up the stairs, and his eyes gleam as he watches Brittany head towards him.

Santana stops, and balls her fists by her sides as he leans in and kisses Brittany. The blonde turned her head to meet Santana's fiery brown orbs as she pulled away, and her face widened at the obviously shocked expression pasted across the brunettes face.

Santana's chest was burning once more, the rage bubbling inside the pit of her stomach as trembles shot throughout her body. If it hadn't been for the alcohol consumed, she would've been able to bite down on the jealousy, and pretend like she always had.

She could feel the tips of her fingers digging into her palm as she watched the asian boys hands roam around the blondes body freely, almost not even bothering to admire the perfection beneath his palms.

Santana didn't even bother thinking about her girlfriend as she shook her head, watching blue eyes suddenly shade with a strange sadness. The Latina flared her nostrils before spinning on her heel and heading towards the bathroom.

As she turned to lock the door, a pale hand forced it open and she stumbled back slightly as Brittany slid into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. Santana's butt hit the sink and she pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb, awaiting the blonde to say anything.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, as the blonde decided to stay silent. Brittany snapped her head up, obviously being caught off guard by the question and she shuts the toilet, before perching on it. "With Mike. What are you doing?" Santana adds, putting the Latina on the spot.

"What do you mean what am I doing? What does it look like I was doing? A fucking marathon?" Brittany retorted, rubbing her palms over her face.

Santana felt the anger bubble in her stomach and she lerched forward, grabbing the blondes wrists and staring down at her with infuriated eyes. If she'd been in a cartoon, smoke probably would've been eminating from her ears and nostrils. Brittany whipped her head up, and darted between fiery chocolate orbs and the tanned hands cupping her wrists.

"This isn't fucking funny Britt."

Of all things, the blonde snorted and shook the brunettes hands off, before standing up and leaning against the far wall. Her blue eyes were intensified by something Santana could only recognise to be similar anger, and she crossed her arms.

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I know how really _un _fucking funny this whole situation is." Brittany replied, her voice serious.

Santana broadened her chest as she rubbed her temples in circles, "I don't think you _do_ get it Brittany. I don't think you get how fucked up this situation really is."

Brittany's face remained expressionless, as if she already knew what Santana had just said. The Latina's heart was pounding heavily, every heart beat louder and stronger than before. She turned, so her back was facing the dancer. She wasn't entirely sure she could handle the blondes expression.

"You're with Quinn, I'm with Mike. There's nothing fucked up about that." Brittany stated matter-of-factly, as if she _really didn't_ know the extent of how ridiculous the situation was.

Santana exhaled heavily, her breaths becoming faster and faster with every one. Thousands of explicit things shot into her brain, thousands of things she wanted to say to Brittany to express her anger ran through her mind. However only one really stood out, and she crossed her arms in defeat, feeling the anger decrease.

"He's not good enough for you." She whispered, almost so quietly she didn't know if Brittany had heard. "You'll just be another notch on his belt." She sighed, "And you're better than that."

Brittany cocked her head to the side, her eyes softening as the Latina spoke. Santana turned and stepped towards the blonde tentatively.

"You don't know that."

Santana narrowed her eyes as she closed the gap between their bodies, so they were only inches away from each other. "I do."

"Santana..." Brittany whispered, her words breaking at the end.

The Latina moved their heads closer together, and licked her lips as she examined every freckle and piece of silky soft skin on the dancers face. Their breaths mingled as the brunette moved herself even closer, barely touching Brittany. Their eyes met, azure and chocolate orbs swirling together as their chests rose and sank faster and faster as the seconds progressed.

Santana clenched her jaw and placed a hand either side of the blondes head, steadying herself as their bodies brushed together in fear that she'd collapse at the mere touch. Brittany's eyes darted down to Santana's lips, her eyes darkening with lust as the Latina gulped audibly.

"San..." Brittany mumbled breathlessly as the Latina tilted her head to the side slowly. "You and Q-Quinn..."

The Latina inhaled, allowing the heavenly aroma of Brittany's natural scent and perfume sink into her lungs, causing her head to spin. "What a-about us?"

"You're together..." Brittany whispered, swallowing loudly again. "The way it s-should be."

Their faces were impossibly close, breaths blanketing each others faces as the gap between their lips decreased with every second. Brittany's eyes fluttered shut, and Santana studied the blonde face, seeing every freckle and inch of make-up covering her perfect skin as she slowly closed her own eyes.

"Fuck how it should be." She whispered shakily against the dancers lips, her own almost touching the blondes.

Santana lowered her hands and brushed her fingertips in an invisible line down Brittany's toned, pale arms until she reached her hands, where she loosely threaded their fingers together. The gap between their lips were only milimetres away from each other when Quinn flashed into the brunettes mind.

She gulped and paused, listening to Brittany's heart beat pound against her chest as her breath quickened. The hesitation caused her to stop momentarily before three words replaced the image, making the Latina's mind up for her.

_Just do it..._

* * *

><p><strong>I apologise for the poor quality of this story. Seriously, like zero inspiration on this story. <strong>

**I think I'm gonna pause this for a while whilst I continue with The Bodyguard, and hope for the best on this one.**

**Thank you guys for reading and once again apologies! But I'm not finished yet!**


	11. Bad News

**INSPIRATION HAS RETURNED!**

**I know you probably don't care but I'm happy about it, so I thought I'd announce it!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's quite long, so apologies for that and in advance for the ending... You'll see why. **

**You may think it's pointless by the end, but actually it leads onto bigger things in the next chapter, which (and here comes a spoiler) is edging Brittana on!**

**Love you guys! Read and review please!**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary:<strong> Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will, what happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate and an AU!

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>You can choose to blame your circumstances on fate or bad luck or bad choices. Or you can fight back. Things aren't always going to be fair in the real world, that's just the way it is. But for the most part, you get what you give."<br>**_**- Lucas Scott**

* * *

><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Ten**

_"Fuck how it should be." She whispered shakily against the dancer's lips, her own almost touching the blondes._

_Santana lowered her hands and brushed her fingertips in an invisible line down Brittany's toned, pale arm until she reached her hands, where she loosely threaded their fingers together. The gap between their lips were only millimetres away from each other when Quinn flashed into the brunettes mind._

_She gulped and paused, listening to Brittany's heart beat pound against her chest as her breath quickened. The hesitation caused her to stop momentarily before three words replaced the image, making the Latina's mind up for her._

_Just do it..._

"S-Sa-San…" Brittany murmured, her eyes squeezed shut and lips slightly parted in preparation.

Santana slowly cracked her eyes open, her mind still swimming with the intoxication of Brittany. Her sweet, hot breath. Her vanilla aroma. Just everything about her made the Latina feel like she was as high as a kite.

"Tell me you don't want this." Santana demanded in a trembling, yet stern voice.

She knew Brittany wanted it. She knew that Brittany wanted to kiss her, hold her and touch her. Mostly because she wanted to do exactly the same thing.

Brittany swallowed audibly, "I-I.."

Santana reluctantly unthreaded her fingers from one of Brittany's hands and brought it up, slowly and shakily above the skin of the blonde's heart. She almost gasped at the rate Brittany's heart was pounding.

Santana could feel the fierce beats, almost drumming the Latina's hand against the dancer's chest. Her lips curbed up ever-so slightly at the sides, into the smallest of smiles, because in some ways, that one touch was a confirmation.

"I can feel it," The Latina whispered, "Right here."

She applied the tiniest amount of pressure, emphasising her words and looked up into sparkling crystal eyes. For a second, she was lost inside those distractingly beautiful orbs and she inhaled deeply, feeling every available air surrounding Brittany, invade her lungs.

For a long moment, they stood there, bodies inches apart, faces centimetres apart, and lips only millimetres apart. Santana could see the affirmation in Brittany's eyes, she could see the lust and want, which she knew she was mimicking.

She didn't hesitate this time, she gulped and licked her lips, preparing herself for the indescribable flavour that was Brittany. And so she leant in.

"I can't do this." Brittany uttered, her words marking the Latina's lips.

Before Santana could respond, Brittany had unlaced their fingers and ducked away, slipping out of the Latina's grasp and out the door in one swift movement.

Santana exhaled, feeling the sudden lack of contact sting her body and she flinched. She fell forward, her forehead connecting with the wall gently as her hands found their place either side of her head, palm forward.

Her heart was slowing down, excruciatingly painfully. It was like an adrenaline hangover. One that caused a throb to form in her brain, and her mouth to run dry. She steadied her panting, trying to focus on each breath as some sort of countdown into calming down.

The Latina squeezed her eyes shut, regret and fear coursing through her veins as she wished she'd just done what she wanted, and shut the fuck up. So she could've just kissed Brittany.

* * *

><p>"Santana?" A soft voice called.<p>

Santana's body stood rigid as she jumped up, her fists balling up to her sides in reaction to the sound of Quinn's voice. She knew that wasn't the reaction she should be having, because all she wished for was that term of endearment to come in the sound of another voice. A soft, more innocent one, one resembling Brittany's, exactly.

She sniffed, trying to form any saliva to relieve the dry burn that'd formed in the back of her throat. "Yeah?"

Santana widened her eyes, realising her voice was just as lustful and raspy as it was with Brittany. She cleared her throat, hoping her usual voice would come back pronto. Seeing as her girlfriend knew the voice of an aroused Santana.

Quinn slowly pushed the door open wider, her hands almost forming a tent on the wooden slat in the centre of the door.

"Are you alright?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed and face twisted into a confused expression.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine babe," Santana started. Hazel eyes met chocolate ones and narrowed even more.

"Shouldn't you be in bed? Br-I mean, uh, I put you to bed like…"

She checked her watch, realising it'd been about half an hour since she'd actually put Quinn to bed. _Shit_, _time really does fly when you're having fun, _she thought sarcastically. Her nostrils flaring at the regret.

"…a minute ago." Santana continued as she wiped her hand across her brow, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty and scared that Quinn had seen Brittany leave.

Quinn straightened up, and crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side. "Actually San, it's been like half an hour. What were you doing that kept you so distracted?"

The Latina snapped her head up, looking deep into hazel eyes to analyse the words. She could've sworn she heard the answer behind the question before she even spoke it.

_About to kiss your best friend. Hope you don't mind._

"Uh…" Santana muttered, her voice wavering as she sorted through her brain to think of an excuse, "Sick."

_Sick? Really?_

"Sick?" Quinn repeated, her knuckles turning an odd strange of white as she clenched them tighter. "But you barely drank a thing."

The Latina swallowed nervously, and hoped to God it hadn't been obvious,

"Must've eaten something funny earlier" She replied, tapping her stomach lightly.

The blonde in front of her cocked her head to the side, and squinted her eyes as if she was trying to read Santana. The Latina immediately relaxed her muscles, and forced a smile, knowing Quinn wouldn't be able to see through that façade.

After a few moments, Quinn copied the brunette's movement and relaxed her shoulder, reaching forward to tug Santana into an embrace.

"Well, I hope you get better baby. I was hoping for some Latina lovin' tonight." Quinn said, seduction lacing her tone as she nuzzled her nose into the crook of Santana's neck, and pressed a lingering kiss to the Latina's pronounce collarbone.

Santana winced internally, _fuck, I've gotta stop doing that_, she thought as she encircled the blondes waist with her arms. "Wow, you must still be drunk."

Quinn whipped her head up, eyebrows furrowing as she smirked at the brunette, "On you."

_Well that was corny and a total turn-off._

_You like her, man up Lopez._

"Aw, how sweet babe." Santana replied, trying to smile as sincerely as possible.

The blonde pressed a quick kiss to the Latina's lips as she pulled away, and laced their fingers together, before pulling them down the hall towards the stairs. Santana looked down at their hands, feeling the sadness creep into her chest as she examined the contrast of their skin.

There was no buzz between their touch. Every time she kissed Quinn she didn't see fireworks, or sparks. She didn't get that tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she saw the head cheerleader, or have that massive urge to spend every single second with her.

It didn't seem to matter how much she liked Quinn, because truly, she did. Because, well, as much as she didn't want to admit it, Quinn just wasn't Brittany. And never would be. But that wouldn't stop her from trying to like her more; after all, Quinn was her _girlfriend._

She sighed heavily. So heavily that Quinn paused on the stairs momentarily as she turned to look at Santana with a quizzical expression. Santana forced another smile, which Quinn returned before leading them down the rest of the stairs, and into the crowd of bodies in the front room.

The blonde led them through the hot, sweaty, dancing bodies and into the middle of the room, where she turned and snaked her arms around Santana's neck, pulling their figures together until their breasts were pushing against each other.

The Latina grinned and ran her hands up and down Quinn's sides, applying the lightest of pressures on her fingertips as she reached the side of the blonde's breasts. Quinn smirked under Santana's touch, and tilted her head to kiss the Latina.

The brunette responded, moulding their mouths together whilst the blonde parted her lips, and tangled their tongues together in an intense kiss. Quinn was definitely a good kisser; she knew how to move her tongue in a memorable way and make her way around Santana's mouth, and that was definitely a plus.

_Brittany's better._

Santana groaned into the kiss as the image of a tall, leggy, blue eyed blonde popped into her head. Quinn obviously took this as a good thing, possibly mistaking it for a moan, so she responded by nipping at the Latina's bottom lip, and then pecking it lightly as she pulled away with a smirk.

The Latina licked her lips, tasting the last of her girlfriend on her lips, and mentally compared their kissed before slapping herself internally and shaking herself out of the daze. Since she knew who she'd much rather be kissing.

* * *

><p>The beat of the song died down, and a slower song came on, ironically named <em>I'd Rather Be With You<em>, by Joshua Radin, as the Latina recognised.

Quinn leaned in, resting the insides of her biceps against each side of Santana's neck as she pushed even closer, and placed her forehead against the Latina's shoulder.

Santana shuffled her feet, and placed the palms of her hands against the base of Quinn's back, securing their bodies together as her cheek met the top of the blonde's head. She felt the familiar set of eyes on her as she focused on the hot breaths radiating through the fabric of her skin tight dress as she scanned the room, trying to find the source she knew was watching her.

Sure enough, Brittany was standing on the other side of the room, her arms snaked around Mike's neck, just like Quinn was with Santana and their bodies were rocking slowly, in time with the music.

Sapphire orbs met dark coffee ones, and they stayed locked as the music played. Somehow, they were sucked into an alternate universe. One where it was only them in the room, no-one else around and no boyfriend or girlfriend wrapped up in their arms.

They were standing opposite each other, hands by their sides and a large gap between them. The same music was playing, but the lyrics printed themselves in the air as they emanated from the boom box in the corner.

_Finally, see you naturally,  
>The one to make it so easy,<br>When you show me the truth.  
>Yeah, yeah, I'd rather be with you,<br>Say you want the same thing too._

Santana gulped and locked eyesight with clear, cerulean orbs, which she focused on. Brittany nodded, and the Latina contorted her face into a quizzical expression, not entirely sure of the blondes action.

The blonde grinned, and took a few steps forward, minimising the gap between her and Santana. The Latina furrowed her brows, questioning the sudden burst of confidence Brittany had as she laced their fingers together.

She examined their hands quickly, admiring the caramel and cream contrast between their skin where their fingers threaded together, before looking up and staring into gleaming crystal orbs. Completely free of any doubt, or fear that the Latina had become accustomed too when up this close to the blonde.

"I'd rather be with you, Santana. Not Mike, or anyone else. You." Brittany uttered, her words firm and confident.

The Latina felt her heart flip and flutter, her brain scream with glee as she had to restrain her body from bouncing up and down in place. To say the least, she was elated, and she suddenly felt all the restrained panic and guilt completely erase itself from her body as she leaned in, and pressed their lips together.

Brittany smiled into the kiss almost instantly, and Santana marvelled at the feeling of the dancer's soft lips, loving the way they moved rhythmically against her own, as if they' been doing this the entire time.

However, when she pulled away, Quinn was standing next to them. Her eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed angrily. Santana could almost feel the fury radiating off the shorter blonde as she turned to scared, sapphire orbs. She felt her heart pound furiously as she once again met quizzical, betrayed hazel eyes that were waiting on explanation.

She opened her mouth, and closed it several times as she tried to find anything to say in response to her and Brittany's kiss. The words muddled up and her mind suddenly ran black as she darted her eyes between hazel and azure orbs, both waiting on anything to come from her mouth.

Santana knew, whatever she said would hurt one of them. And that was definitely the last thing she wanted to happen. She knew if she said it was a mistake, all chances with Brittany was ruined, and they would grow apart, but still Quinn would be angry at her for cheating on her. As anyone would be if they'd just found their partner kissing their best friend.

But Santana also knew if she said that's what she really wanted. Quinn would be crushed. The head cheerleader would possibly break down, and the Latina really didn't want that. She also knew that if she admitted that, Quinn and Brittany's friendship would be terminated, which would not only hurt Quinn further, but it would hurt Brittany.

Either way, she'd lose.

"Santana?"

The Latina shook her head, and squeezed her eyes shut as she rubbed her temples. The voice sounded more cheery than usual and she turned to look at both the girls, neither which had spoken.

"Santana?" The voice said, a little louder this time. She shut her eyes, trying to focus on the source as frustration pounded at her head.

* * *

><p>Santana sturred, and cracked open her eyes as the voice became a little clearer, second by second.<p>

"Santana?"

The Latina widened her eyes, pushing back to overwhelming groggy feeling clawing at the back of her mind as she looked into hazel eyes. Sure enough, it was Quinn.

"Q? Wh-what's going on?" She questioned as she looked about the room.

She wasn't in Puckerman's house anymore. But she wasn't anywhere she recognised either. Quinn ran her fingers through the Latina's hair as she stared down at her. Santana registered the feeling of a mattress against her back, and pillows behind her head. She rapidly rubbed at her eyes with fisted hands, and propped herself up on her elbows, examining her surroundings.

The room was large, larger than any normal bedroom and the walls were a creamy yellow. The bed her and Quinn were on was king sized, and the bed covers were a dark olive cover, with a black, furry rug placed at the bottom. Just opposite the bed was a set of cottage style windows with beige, translucent curtains draped at either end.

"We're at Britt's." Quinn replied cheerfully as she bent down and kissed Santana's temple.

Santana grinned and turned her head to spot her girlfriend, lying on the full length of her body, but on her side - propped up on one elbow with her chin resting in one hand. "Last night you like blacked out when we were dancing. Britt doesn't live far and insisted we come back here."

The Latina's heart fluttered just the tiniest bit at the word _insisted_, she did care about Santana and Santana knew it. "Oh, that's nice of her."

"Yeah. She looked like she was about to pass out with fear when you hit the floor." Quinn giggled, whilst trailing her fingertip up Santana's bare abs, since apparently the tank top she was wearing had ridden up.

"Mhm." She muttered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible, despite the massive urge burning through her calves, telling her to run to Brittany and let her know she's okay.

"Are you alright?"

Santana cocked her head, panicked by the question as she realised Brittany had been running through her mind. "Yeah babe, why?"

Quinn kissed Santana's shoulder and pushed up off the bed, walking over to the floor length mirror and fixing her hair.

"Just wondering, you seemed a little… distracted last night."

The Latina fought back the urge to widen her eyes, or to paste a surprised expression on her face at all as she shrugged, "Really? Didn't realize I had been. Sorry."

"Huh, weird."

Santana ran her tongue along her teeth, feeling the fuzziness as she acted nonchalant. She glanced around the room, noticing the sleeping bag pushed up against the far wall with two pillows scrunched up beside it. She furrowed her brows, and drummed her fingertips against the sheet of the mattress.

"Who slept over there?"

Quinn turned, and followed the Latina's gaze towards the sleeping bag on the far side of the wall. "Oh, I did."

Santana rose one eyebrow, "Why didn't you sleep up here?" She tapped the mattress firmly, gesturing to the bed, "With me?"

"I did for the first couple of hours. But it got a bit crowded."

"Crowded?"

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, me, you and Britt were in there, but since apparently you two get very _handsy_, I decided to leave yourself to your own accord."

The Latina's blood froze and she felt her heart skip at least five or six beats. Her throat ran dry as she realised the blonde, that wasn't her girlfriend, was lying right next to her. And she knew just how handsy she got, since one morning a few weeks ago when she woke up with her hand buried inside the front of Quinn's pants.

"But Britt had to leave at like 4am this morning."

Santana rolled on her side, and played with the edge of the pillow mindlessly, "Why?"

"Had to take her Dad to the Docks. He's taking overseas, won't be back for four months."

Quinn straightened up and smiled at her reflection, before leaning in and applying a layer of eyeliner.

"What the hell does he do?" The Latina queried, suddenly strongly interested in Brittany's home life.

The blonde battered her lashes several times and then reached over to grasp a small tube of lip gloss on the cabinet near the mirror. She brought it back and unscrewed it, before bringing it to her lips,

"He's like a captain of a dredging boat or something," She replied uninterested, "Or a sea captain, something like that. He goes away for like months at a time, and seeing as Britt's sister and mom aren't around anymo-"

"What?" Santana interrupted, the new information suddenly catching her attention at the mention that Mrs. Pierce wasn't around anymore.

"What?"

The Latina shook her head, "Britt's mom isn't around?"

Quinn turned, rising a perfectly shaped eyebrow as she puckered her lips, "Nope, she died when B was like four or something. Car accident, right round the corner from Bennie's café actually."

The Latina exhaled, suddenly realising that the whole _hard bitch_ façade Brittany put on was done for a reason. She was lonely.

"So yeah, Neil's pretty much all Brittany has. It's pretty horrible actually, 'cause B spends like seventy five percent of her time alone."

Santana swallowed, nodding as she took in all the information. Sure as hell was a hell of a lot to take in considering she'd known Brittany for months. She was knocked out of her daze as Quinn bounced on the bed, one leg tucked underneath as the other dangled off the side of the bed. The Latina smiled and pushed up to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"Anyway, I need to go home quick, but I'll be back later."

The Latina pushed out of bed, and searched the room for any signs of clothes.

"Going somewhere?" The blonde questioned, raising both eyebrows as Santana glanced around the room.

The brunette frowned, "Uh, yeah, trying to find some clothes, then taking you home and then going home myself?" She replied, as if she response was obvious.

"Nuh-uh," Quinn stood from the bed, and took a few steps towards Santana, "I told Britt you'd take a look at her car, it started making strange noises. Plus her sister started at Harvard so she's alone more than ever at the moment."

The Latina gulped, realising Quinn was literally giving her and Brittany alone time, and she really _didn't know _if she could control herself. Especially considering the Pierce household was definitely empty and she was dressed in a one size too small tank top and a pair of _incredibly _short, short shorts.

"Oh, and by the way, I was gonna give you this last night but I forgot."

Santana rose an eyebrow, curious by her girlfriends words. Quinn dug inside her pocket and revealed a thin silver chain, and a small, silver band ring hanging off the end of it. The Latina widened her eyes, revelling in the glimmering jewellery in front of her as she brushed her fingertips over the ring, marvelling at cool sensation and it lingered underneath the pad of her finger.

"Uh, wow, Quinn, erm…" Santana mumbled, a sudden golf size ball formed in her throat and she swallowed. If it was possible, the lodge was built from the guilt bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

Her eyes flickered up to see the hope inside Quinn's hazel eyes. The complete adoration that shaded those dark green orbs and suddenly she felt the weight of the world push against her shoulders. She really did like Quinn, but she knew it wasn't normal to feel like this after receiving a gift.

"It's amazing baby, I love it." Santana forced out, along with a large grin.

The blonde's face immediately brightened up. Her eyes glittered at Santana's approval and the Latina swore Quinn might have been bouncing in her spot if it wouldn't have caused the necklace to drop out.

"Can I put it on?" Quinn asked, her voice a little wary.

Santana turned, accepting silently as she forced herself to restrain the guilt clawing up the back of her throat. Her girlfriend made quick work, snapping it and placing it around her neck. When she was done, she tapped Santana's shoulder and Santana turned around.

"Baby, it's beautiful." The Latina said as she picked up the ring between her forefinger and thumb, and pretended to show intense interest in it.

She slipped her forefinger through the ring, marvelling at the colour contrast against her caramel skin when a thought popped into her mind. "Babe, why is it on a chain?"

Quinn grinned and shuffled closer, wrapping her arms around the Latina's neck and clasping her hands together behind her head. Santana snaked her arms around the blonde's waist a pulled their bodies closer together, trying to convince her girlfriend that she was genuinely pleased.

"Well, if you're at work I don't want the ring to get scratched, and since I haven't actually seen you wear any piece of jewellery except a necklace, I thought it'd just be your preference."

Santana grinned and nodded, it was true, she preferred necklaces to any other piece of jewellery. Mostly because she could pretty much put anything on a necklace, and conceal it when she needed too by tucking it inside her shirt but still carry it around.

_Sounds familiar._

"I love it baby," She punctuated with a quick kiss, "Thank you."

"Awesome." Quinn replied, nuzzling her nose against Santana's, "Well I gotta go now babe. I'll see you later okay?"

Santana nodded, and kissed Quinn quickly before she proceeded to skip out of the room, flicking her skirt seductively as it revealed a pair of pink, laced panties and a quick wink.

Santana swallowed nervously, crossing her arms over her chest as she realised the intensity of the situation. She _really_ didn't want to be dressed like _that_ whilst being Brittany's house, where she would be spending at least three or four hours _alone_ with her.

And suddenly, the necklace felt like a ten tonne weight tugging at her neck.

* * *

><p>The Latina turned, and approached the window which stretched across most of the outer wall. The sun pierced her eyes immediately, causing her to wince at the sudden bright intrusion and she examined the outside. The window looked over into a huge back garden, with a pool at the front and a Jacuzzi placed on top of decking in the far right hand corner.<p>

Santana raised her eyebrows, taking in the sight when she heard a shuffling behind her. On instinct, she twisted round to see Brittany standing awkwardly in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her and fingers fidgeting together.

"Oh, erm, hey."

She watched as Brittany roamed her crystal orbs up her hardly covered body. She grasped the hem of her top and tugged down, as if the one-size-too-small top would possibly stretch into a maxi dress.

"Hi." Brittany replied, her voice croakier than usual.

Santana couldn't prevent the slight pull at the corner of her lips, and she smiled, biting down on her bottom lip to try and conceal it. However it didn't escape Brittany's notice and she grinned.

"Have you um," The Latina cleared her throat, punctuating her sentence;

"Got anything I could borrow to wear please? I'm kinda um, y'know." The Latina gestured to her outfit, which caused Brittany to grin.

Santana could've sworn she saw a slight tinge of pink cross Brittany's cheeks, but she shook it off, thinking it was ridiculous. The blonde glided across the floor, as if her feet were barely touching the ground as she rounded the bed, and picked up something occupying the side table.

She walked back over to Santana, who was tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. _Why am I so goddamn nervous?_ She thought as the dancer approached her with a pile of neatly folded clothes, consisting of a black tank top and faded, blue skinny jeans.

"I put these out for you this morning. Quinn um, told me your dress wouldn't be suitable." Brittany mumbled as Santana's creamy fingers brushed against the unbelievably soft, creamy velvet skin covering Brittany's knuckles.

The Latina jerked back slightly, feeling the burn of electricity as it coursed up her arm from that single touch. She smiled and unfolded the jeans in one hand, slipping them on as the tank top fell to the floor in a small heap. She glanced up to Brittany with an apologetic smile and bent down.

As she leant forward, Brittany copied her movements and their foreheads butted as they reached down. Santana tumbled backwards and landed on the floor with a thud, a palm supporting her weight as the other clutched Brittany's hand.

She realised somewhere in the fall she must've tried to steady herself by using the blondes weight, and almost immediately she let go of the dancers hand, and looked everywhere in the room that wasn't Brittany.

The blonde stumbled forward with the Latina, and somehow ended up on her knees between the Latina's legs, leaning over Santana with the tank top between them.

"Sor-"

"Sor-"

They both said in sync. Brittany grinned down at the Latina, and this time Santana _definitely_ saw the flush cross the dancers pale cheeks. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached up and tucked a lock of blonde hair behind Brittany's ear, and allowed her fingertips to linger.

Sparks flew as the tips of her fingers lazily caressed Brittany's perfectly carved cheekbone, down to her strong, curved jaw and eventually down the slope of Brittany's long, creamy neck. The feeling of the blonde's unbelievably silky skin sent electricity coursing through the Latina's veins, and an insatiable tingle to creep down her spine, and cause her stomach to do flip-flops.

Somewhere along the line, they'd both been leaning in together, their breaths turning into pants as their breaths mingled together between their faces. Santana marvelled at the tiny freckles covering Brittany's face, the small specks of grey flickering in her distractingly beautiful sapphire orbs and every curve carving the blonde's angelic face.

The Latina gulped, and watched Brittany mimic the movement as she took note of their new position. The blonde was still kneeling, however Santana was now leaning on both her palms, pushing up on her fingertips to close the gap between them as her back was stretched up, and legs out in front of her so she was sitting straight.

"We, er-" Brittany breathed, her magnificent oxygen blanketing Santana's face, "Better get, erm, ready."

Santana narrowed her eyes, feeling the disappointment sink in. So she slid out her legs out from underneath the blonde and stood up, brushing her tank top down with both hands before clearing her throat.

"Lets." She said, as she offered her hand out to help Brittany up.

Sadness flashed behind crystal blue orbs, and Santana suddenly felt anger burn in the pit of her stomach. _Why the hell is she sad? She had her chance?_ She thought as cerulean eyes flickered momentarily to Santana's outstretched hand and then back to dark chocolate orbs.

"Hey guys, sorry I forgot my pur-"

The Latina's head whipped up to Quinn standing at the door. Brittany stood up, pushing herself off the ground as her impossibly long legs lengthened without Santana's help. The Latina retracted her hand, and tucked both hands into the back pockets of the jeans as she rocked up onto the balls of her feet and then back down again.

"Hey baby."

Quinn stepped into the room, swinging her hands overdramatically, "You guys alright?"

Santana darted her gaze to Brittany quickly, who was grinning largely, almost practiced so, and nodding.

"We're good." Brittany answered, her smile growing larger by the second. "I'm gonna go set up the garage, leave you two to it."

"We'll come with." Quinn muttered, her eyes still slightly narrowed.

Santana forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah babe."

She could've sworn she saw Brittany flinch out the corner of her eye, but shook it off as she had absolutely no idea why Brittany would've done, seeing as she obviously took pleasure in mind-fucking the Latina. So all three of them set off down Brittany's hallway, two of them with a guilty conscience and one completely oblivious.

* * *

><p>About two hours later, Santana was once again covered in black smudges, her hair was tied into a loose ponytail and her borrowed jeans were completely ruined due to the several stains and rips in them. She'd apologised many times to Brittany, but apparently the jeans were a spare pair that were too short for her anyway.<p>

She slid out from underneath the car, wiping her brow with the back of her hand and probably causing another smudge before basking in the cool air as it blanketed her body. The Latina pushed up off the creeper, which slipped and she tumbled. Brittany lurched forward, and grasped Santana's bicep, steadying her.

Chocolate orbs instantly met cerulean ones, and Santana gasped at the fiery touch that burned under the pressure of Brittany's fingertips. She looked over to her girlfriend, who was filing her nails as she perched on top of the bonnet with her knees bent and feet pressed near her butt.

Brittany's face fell, and she pulled Santana up immediately, before letting go and retreating back to her position next to Quinn. The Latina exhaled heavily and headed towards the two girls, wiping her hands on the ragged cloth that hung out the back pocket. She wrung it before slapping it over her shoulder and clapping her hands together.

As she approached the two, she couldn't help but compare them. Quinn was still in the same position, her legs tucked up by her chest with her arms stretched out in front of her, comparing the length of each nail. Her hair was short, and the cross necklace hung loosely around her neck, taking place on the valley of her breasts which were quite pronounce through the low, white v neck shirt she was wearing.

In a strange kind of way, it kind of annoyed Santana. Because as much as Quinn like to blab on about being head of the Celibacy Club and being the religious little girl her parents brought up, Santana knew _for a fact_ that she definitely _wasn't_ celibate, far from it in fact and the religious thing was just to deter people that she didn't want lurching after her. Plus, a cross necklace that happened to conveniently take its place, enticingly in the dip of her boobs, which were pretty much on show and looking larger than usual? Slight piss take.

Santana watched as Quinn's eyebrows furrow in aggravation, and a few mumbled curses to escape her lips, (which definitely weren't included in the bible), as she filed just a _little too much_ on one finger, causing the nail to be shorter and of course, bringing the end of the world.

But then she switched to Brittany. Brittany who had that natural, glow around her head that just was so damn luring. Sure most of the time it was hidden by the cold, bitchy exterior she usually threw within two seconds of greeting her, but Santana knew if she endured it and pushed past it, there was something bright about Brittany.

She looked Brittany, who was focused on a squirrel on the floor, small chuckles coming out as she watched the furry creature bite into a nut and scamper off, tail bouncing with every step. She had her palms pressed against the bonnet of the car, her impossibly long legs stretched out in front of her and dangling off the front of the car whilst she leant back and basked in the remains of the sunlight.

Every time she looked at Brittany, she just wanted to smile. Once Brittany smiled, which admittedly was rather rare, it was just _so_ infection. Santana couldn't help but grin back, even after the several awkward moments, intense almost kisses and the whole repressed feelings.

"I uh, need to look into the bonnet quickly." Santana muttered as she shook herself out of the analysis.

Both girls snapped up their heads, turning their attention to the Latina who was standing half a metre in front of them. They smiled before sliding off in sync and stood off to the side.

Quinn with her arms crossed and her hip cocked, as if she was pissed that Santana had to move them, and Brittany who was bending down, trying to find somewhere to sit on the pavement that wasn't damp or didn't have nuggets of mud covering it.

Santana smirked and shook her head, before clicking open the bonnet and searching inside. After a few moments she twisted her wrench, loosening a bolt before nodding as she found the problem. She stood, making sure to duck her head out the way of the bonnet and turned around to meet Brittany, who was impossibly close.

"Oh, um, hey." Santana mumbled, bracing herself against the edge of the car as she realised _just how close _the blonde was. She glanced around to find Quinn, who she was pretty sure would be suspicious by how close they were, even if it was purely accidental.

Brittany widened her eyes and took a step back, "Sorry, I was watching what you were doing. Quinn went inside and I wanted to see you at work. Seems like you're good with your ha-,"

The blonde pasted a shocked expression across her face, "I mean, seems you're talented. With cars. Engines. That sort of stuff."

Santana flushed, hearing the innuendo that would've finished Brittany's original sentence and smirked.

"It's cool," She started, "I just need to do a compression test. It seems like you might have a bad piston ring which causes low compression in the engine cylinder or one of the valves."

Brittany looked bewildered as Santana blabbed out mechanical talk and the Latina laughed, "Sorry. Basically you might need a replacement of something."

The dancer smiled and nodded, "Right okay. Um, do you need any help?"

Santana turned, cocking one eyebrow and smirking slightly.

"Not that you'd need any. Or that I'd know what I was doing. I was just see-" Brittany mumbled, the words tumbling out her mouth faster with every second, and dropped her head as if she was embarrassed.

Santana couldn't help but feel the nervous vibe emanating off the dancer. So she chuckled and stepped forward, dipping her head slightly until she met distractingly beautiful sapphire orbs.

"Britt," Santana started, placing her mucky hand over Brittany's forearm as she looked up,

"I do need your help actually. I need you to stand at the back of the car and tell me if there's any blue smoke coming out the tailpipe, or if you can see any oil coming out from under the car."

Brittany nodded and smiled, causing the Latina to giggle and blush slightly, "Okay."

The blonde pulled out of Santana's touch, and the sharp sting formed in the Latina's hand at the loss of contact. She whimpered internally, and watched as Brittany rounded the car, towards the back end and crouched down.

"Ready?" Santana called, reaching inside the engine and clipping the bolt back, before entering the driver's side and turning on the ignition.

"Ready!" Brittany called back, her voice sounding muffled.

Santana smiled, feeling the butterflies bounce against the lining of her stomach as she revved the car. The engine got louder and louder, and Santana craned her neck, trying to see Brittany in the rear view mirror as the blonde wasn't answering.

"Britt? See anything?"

No answer.

"Brittany! Can you see anything?" She yelled, louder than before.

A large cough caused her to whip her foot off the pedal, and sprint out the car towards Brittany who was crouching down with a face full of blue smoke. Her face was bright red, eyes squeezed shut and it looked like she was trying to bring her lungs up with the force put behind the cough. Santana cradled her, crouching down with one knee either side of the blonde's body as she cupped Brittany's cheeks.

"Are you alright Britt Britt?" Santana asked, concern lacing her voice. Her heart was pounding faster, becoming deafeningly loud in her ears as she thought about hurting Brittany.

The blonde finally opened her eyes, revealing beautiful crystal blue orbs that seemed to shine that tiniest bit brighter as she heard the worry in Santana's tone. She grinned and Santana furrowed her brows, which turned to anger as the blonde started to chuckle through an incredibly raspy voice, which if she wasn't in that situation, Santana probably would've been turned on. Then again, Santana thought to herself, she was turned on.

"Why are you laughing!" She hissed, dropping her hands and straightening up.

Brittany continued to giggle and coughed a little more, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone jump out a car quicker because of a cough."

Santana's face fell and she clucked her tongue, "That's not funny. I thought I hurt you."

The blonde narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. _What did I do wrong?_ Santana thought to herself, noticing the anger darkening sapphire orbs.

"Yeah, and you wouldn't want that now would you."

The Latina crossed her arms, and shook her head. Knowing it was just another one of Brittany's bipolar moments, where she could switch from one emotion to the other in two seconds flat. Santana scoffed and rubbed her nose, "No, I wouldn't actually. You know that."

Blue eyes widened, and looked up at Santana as she towered over Brittany. "Why?"

"Why what?" Santana replied, bending down to grab the spanner on the floor next to the blonde.

"Why wouldn't you want to hurt me?"

The Latina snapped up, her body going rigid at the question. _Shit._ She sorted through millions of thoughts and sentences, trying to find the right one that wouldn't land her in a heap of crap or cause any suspicion. When she found the correct one, she almost scoffed like it hadn't been the obvious one to start with.

"Because I like you."

Santana turned around, and rounded the car to return to the bonnet where she tried to focus on the task on hand inside of the beautiful blue eyed blonde she was staring at her, probably with an incredulous look consisting of that adorable lower lip pout and the scrunching of the eyebrows, which caused a tiny line to form just above her right one.

Instead, Santana got a reply she really wasn't expecting.

"Quinn?"

The Latina put down the wrench and peered over the top of the bonnet, to see Brittany turned on her side, focusing on something to Santana's right with wide eyes and a face twisted into a panicked expression. She followed the line of sight until she saw Quinn standing at the door, her face paler than usual and her hazel eyes completely void of emotion.

Santana swallowed, her body prickling with fear as she thought her girlfriend has heard her say _because I like you_ and finally pieced everything together. She cupped her own wrist, wringing it slightly as she stepped around the car, unconsciously edging towards Brittany until she reached her side.

"Q, what's wrong?" Brittany asked, her voice sharper than usual.

Brittany and Santana both exchanged a look, before heading the few steps forward to stand in front of Quinn. The dancer looked at Santana, jutting her chin towards Quinn as if to say _you ask._ The Latina obliged and close the gap between her and her girlfriend, taking her pale hands between her own and rubbing the back of them with her thumb in circular motions.

"Quinn, hon, what's wrong?"

Empty, hazel eyes looked up, and Santana saw all the emotion completely drained from her face, except from panic and fear. The Latina immediately mirrored the emotions and swallowed,

"N-neil."

Santana snapped her head back to see everything bright about Brittany drain out of her face, at the mention of her father. The Latina turned back to Quinn and grasped both biceps, trying to shake Quinn out of the state she was in.

"What about him Q?"

Nothing.

"Q!" Santana shouted, shaking her girlfriend gently.

Quinn never took her eyes off Brittany as she gulped audibly and allowed a single tear to flow from her right eye. Santana roughly tugged her girlfriend over to where Brittany was standing. She hooked her arm around the taller blondes waist reassuringly shook Quinn again.

"Th-There was a storm," Quinn started, her voice low and croaky, "N-Neil.. The st-storm took out h-his… b-boat."

The shorter blonde sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand against her nose, Brittany's face was still pale white and completely emotionless, her eyes empty.

"Quinn cut the crap, what's happened to Neil?" Santana hissed, her voice getting louder and louder with every word.

Hazel eyes finally met coffee ones and Quinn gulped again. The Latina was getting more and more annoyed as her girlfriend took her time, she was almost at the point where she was about to slap Quinn in order to get the information. But instead, she withheld the urge and tightened her grip around the shorter blonde's bicep.

"The police f-found a b-body," Santana's eyed widened comically at Quinn's words, "T-They think it's him."

And with that, Brittany exhaled and her knees gave way, causing her to collapse to the floor with a heavy thud.

* * *

><p><strong>Please tell me what you think! I'm doing alternate chapters, one for this and one for my other fic, <strong>_**The Bodyguard**_**, so apologies if I'm keeping you waiting.**

**If you can, take a couple of seconds to review please. It would be greatly appreciated! Thanks!**


	12. So Wrong It Feels Right

**First of all I really want to apologize for the wait for this chapter! I got caught up in my other fic, and I had literally no inspiration for this one! So I really do apologize!**

**Anyway, I made this one extra long, and shortened it so there's more Brittana in this chapter as a little sorry for making you guys wait. It's also a hell of a long chapter, so that's another sorry!**

**College is getting more intense, and so is the work so I'm afraid I won't be able to update as often as I have done in the past, but I promise you I'll try as hard as I can! So please stay with me!**

**I hope you enjoy, and if you could leave me a little review telling me your thought's I'd be incredibly grateful! Thank you!**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>R (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate (unfortunately)

* * *

><p><em><strong>Kisses are better fate than wisdom<br>**__– _E.E. Cummings.

* * *

><p>"<em>The police f-found a b-body," Santana's eyes widened comically at Quinn's words, "T-they think it's him."<em>

_And with that, Brittany exhaled and her knees gave way, causing her to collapse to the floor with a heavy thud._

Santana immediately released her grip from around her girlfriend, and shot to Brittany's aid as she knelt down on the floor, cradling the sobbing blonde between in a tight embrace. She felt the quizzical expression on Quinn's face, but decided to ignore it at there were clearly more important issues at hand. A tiny part of her brain momentarily noted that Quinn hadn't moved from her position, and was _still_ pale, as if it was _her_ father and not Brittany's.

"What did they say _exactly_ Q?" Santana asked in a demanding tone, the internal anger burning through her words.

She saw Quinn flinch at the sharpness, but ignored it knowing the intensity of Brittany's dads situation. After a few moments of quietness, she glanced up to her girlfriend, to see one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised and eyes narrowed as if to say _what-the-hell-are-you-doing?_

Santana finally took note of her actions as she rocked Brittany back and forth, her chest pressed into the dancer's back, arms encircled around her trim waist and fingers threaded, thumb moving in circular motions reassuringly.

In almost an instant, she snapped back and jumped out of Brittany's warmth, feeling the sting form in her body at the loss of contact. Quinn immediately took her place, comforting Brittany by kneeling in front of her and cupping her cheeks, muttering unintelligible words as the taller of the blondes whimpered.

After a long, awkward, (for Santana), pause, Quinn brought Brittany into a tight embrace and turned to the Latina, her eyes hard and remains of tear invisible, "There were three men in the boat, and they recovered a body."

Santana exhaled immediately, slightly relief washing over her as she realised there was at _least_ a chance of Brittany's dad being alive.

"I have to go see if it's him." Brittany interjected, her voice hard and sad.

Quinn snapped her head back, furrowing both brows at Brittany as hazel eyes met cobalt. "B are you sure?"

The dancer shook off the other blonde's embrace and struggled to her feet, her legs trembling, "I have to know if it's him Q."

* * *

><p>About five minutes later, Santana was perched on Brittany's bed whilst Quinn was on the phone outside and Brittany was searching through her belongings frantically. The Latina could sense Brittany's urgency, and obvious sadness, and stood up, taking two steps towards the blonde and hovering behind her.<p>

"Brittany."

The blonde continued to search through her top drawer,

"Brittany." Santana repeated, her voice louder than before.

When Brittany ignored her for the second time, Santana reached out her hand and grazed it gently across the blonde's bare shoulder, feeling goose bumps form at her touch. The dancer immediately spun round, and looked at Santana with a panicked, halfway-to-having-a-breakdown eyes.

"You need to calm down Britt," She started, placing both hands on the blonde's biceps and squeezing gently, "Just take deep breaths."

Brittany didn't even question her and closed her eyes, before pursing her lips into an 'o' shape and inhaling deeply. Santana felt her hands move involuntarily and couldn't help but stare at the perfection that was Brittany's face. She watched the blonde's body rise and fall in slow concessions, her pale skin glimmer in the dim light with every breath and Santana suddenly found herself gawping into sparkling cerulean orbs.

_Shit._

"Feel any better?" She questioned, trying to remove the obvious awkwardness of getting caught staring.

Brittany nodded, "Definitely."

Santana narrowed her eyes momentarily, deciphering the hidden meaning behind the blonde's words because, well, there _always was_ some type of secret message.

"Do you have anyone you can call? A grandpa or grandma?"

Blue eyes darkened almost immediately, and Santana pasted a quizzical expression across her face,

"A grandma," Brittany replied, her voice wavering just the tiniest bit, "But I'm not going too. It wouldn't help"

"_Come on guys! If you wanna get to Washington before dark you need to leave now!"_ Quinn yelled from the hallway.

Santana cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes, mentally wondering why Brittany wouldn't call her grandma. But the blonde shrugged herself out of the Latina's touch, and exited the room towards the hallway.

Santana shook her head and followed suit, meeting the two blondes at the top of the stairs where they were talking quietly. Quinn shushed the other blonde and Santana knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that, but pretended not too anyway. Brittany started down the stairs without even a glance at the brunette and Santana followed right behind.

""Are you really not going to call your grandma?" Santana questioned, trying to subtly tell Quinn about their conversation.

"She'd just freak out and I wouldn't wanna put her through that. Plus it's not going to be my dad anyway." Brittany stated nonchalantly, as if this whole 'daddy-might-be-dead' thing was a thing of the past.

Santana raised an eyebrow and followed Brittany to the front door, where she turned and stood less than a metre away from the Latina.

"Of course it's not." Quinn added, joining the two girls in the room.

The brunette looked up at her girlfriend with furrowed brows. She wanted to tell Quinn not to reassure Brittany, and tell her that it wasn't her dad because no-one knew. She didn't want Brittany to get her hopes up, just to have them crushed. Because much as Santana still didn't want to admit it, she would've hated to see Brittany disappointed.

She turned to look at Brittany, who was on her near right. She suddenly noticed that somewhere along the line she'd gravitated towards the dancer, without even realising it.

"Right, we've gotta get going," Brittany muttered, "We've got a nine hour drive to Washington."

Quinn narrowed her eyes and hung her arms down by her body, "A nine hour drive through a storm?"

Santana widened her eyes and looked to her girlfriend, who stared back with a terrified expression. She gulped and looked back to Brittany who was watching the silent exchange;

"It's just passing through. By the time we get there it should be gone."

Coffee eyes met steel blue, and Santana could read all the doubt and see the little girl inside of them pretending to be calm about the whole situation. Suddenly, Brittany's house phone started ringing and Quinn looked up expectantly.

"Shouldn't someone stay by the phone? Just in case your dad calls?" The shorter blonde uttered, her voice laced with hope.

Brittany took a quick glance at Santana and then back to Quinn, "Yeah, probably."

"I'll stay."

Santana whipped her head round to stare at her girlfriend incredulously, she raised both eyebrows because she knew Quinn wasn't offering to help, she knew it was for selfish reasons. However Brittany didn't seem to see the same thing.

"Are you sure?" The dancer questioned, fidgeting with her fingers.

Quinn nodded and took a step forward, engulfing the taller blonde in a tight embrace whilst she whispered in her ear, "Of course, you're my best friend."

Brittany grinned, sending shivers down the Latina's spine as cobalt orbs locked with chocolate ones, "Are you okay to drive San? I'm not sure if I'm up to it."

Santana looked deep into hazel eyes which were inwardly pleased but also selfish and she couldn't help but feel fury bubble in the pit of her stomach. She turned to look at Brittany who was staring at her innocently and nodded.

"Sure Britt."

It only took about five minutes before Santana and Quinn were sitting in the car. The blonde had insisted she wait in the car until Brittany came out, seeing as the dancer needed a few moments alone. The Latina turned to her girlfriend and clenched her jaw. She really did like Quinn. She loved spending time with her, and loved kissing her, hugging her, touching… Well you get it. But she couldn't help but know she wasn't _in_ love with her. And couldn't ever see herself doing so.

"So, babe, can you make sure you look after Britt? She's a bit sensitive and needs someone right now." Quinn asked as she turned to Santana in her seat.

The Latina nodded, "Sure. I'll try."

The blonde reached over and tangled their fingers together, staring at them as if this was the last time she'd see her girlfriend. Santana frowned and tilted her girlfriend's chin up with her free hand, looking deeply into hazel eyes.

"What's up?"

She swore she saw doubt flash across Quinn's eyes, but she blinked and it'd vanished. Maybe not.

"Nothing, I'm just gonna miss you."

Santana felt another pang of guilt tick in her chest and she forced a smile, "Ditto."

Quinn grinned and let go of Santana's hand. Before she could see what was going on her girlfriend had hooked her pale finger into the necklace Santana was wearing and tugged her forward. Their lips crushed together, firmly and passionately. She brought her hand up, winding it found Quinn's neck to pull her close as their mouths opened up. The blonde leant further into the brunette's touch until her arm was resting on the inside of Santana's thigh.

A voice muttered in the back of her mind, telling Santana that she was a bad person. It's not like she didn't like kissing Quinn, because hell, she did. It was just every kiss they'd had, just didn't feel as soon as… _No stop_ she thought as their tongues tangled together. The blonde hands slid down Santana's clothed stomach and slid underneath, brushing against olive abs and scratching lightly.

"Ah, that's why you bought me it." Santana mumbled against Quinn's lips.

She felt her nod and continued to kiss her girlfriend, bringing her hands up to tangle into blonde locks. Something itched at the back of her head, and Santana's eyes popped open. They flickered to the left where she saw Brittany walking out the house and felt the slap of guilt again. Their eyes locked and the Latina pulled away from her girlfriend, feeling torn between the two blondes. Quinn pasted a satisfied expression across her face and grinned largely.

"Yeah." She said in reply to Santana's statement about the necklace.

The Latina looked to Brittany and cleared her throat, "Uh, ready to go Britt?"

The dancer nodded, and Santana could feel the sadness radiating off her. She hated it. She really fucking hated that she was doing this to Brittany all because she had no idea what she wanted. It was selfish, and totally fucking out of order. Brown eyes met hazel ones, and she realised Quinn was completely oblivious to Brittany's reaction as they stared at her full of lust.

"Q? You kind of need to get out for us to leave." Santana muttered as her eyes darted between the two blondes.

Quinn's eyes grew wide, and the brunette watched as her girlfriend realised she'd been staring. Santana chuckled lightly and brushed a piece of blonde hair behind the hazel eyed girl's, acknowledging the pink tinting her girlfriend's ears.

"Yeah sure, sorry."

With a quick peck on the lips, Quinn climbed out the car and smiled sweetly at Brittany, muttering something unintelligible whilst rubbing her arms up and down in a comforting gesture. Santana sat in the car, debating which way was the easiest and quietest way to undo the window and listen in to their conversation. But before she could make her mind up Brittany nodded, kissed Quinn on the cheek quickly, flickering her eyes to meet brown ones and hugged her.

"Bye Q!" Brittany muttered as she swung open the door.

Santana sat up straight and grasped the steering wheel with both hands.

The shorter of the blondes turned and mouth _look after her_ to Santana who nodded in response. Brittany climbed into the car and sat silently next to the Latina, whilst buckling her seatbelt. Brown eyes roamed along the tanned body sitting next to her, starting with the smooth, bare legs that never seemed to end and caused Santana's mouth to gape open. Brittany seemed to sense Santana's stare and looked at her, blushing slightly and curving her lips up at the corner. The brunette gulped audibly and glanced back to her girlfriend, giving her a quick nod whilst she put an arm around the back of Brittany's seat and reversing out the driveway.

It was going to be one hell of a journey.

* * *

><p>They were about two hours into the journey when they approached the bridge leading them over a river that Santana didn't know the name of. She'd had been following the GPS so far, and apparently this was the only way they could get to Washington in time. They'd made awkward small talk, making sure to avoid the fact that there was one hell of a big elephant sitting in the back seat grinning smugly. When the talking had died, Brittany reached over and turned up the music so the silence would be filled with the lyrics of whoever was on the radio at the time.<p>

It was dark by the time they approached the bridge. And they didn't even manage to get to the toll booth and pay their quarter before a man in a florescent orange jacket stopped the car in front by standing in the centre of the road.

Brittany leant forward, hands on the dashboard as she peered out the window. Santana couldn't help but smile lightly as she watched the blonde's eyebrows furrow and the crease to between each brow. She then turned her attention to the road, where the man was walking up to the driver's window of the car in front and leaning in.

There were large signs either side of the road, but Santana couldn't make them out in the darkness. But it was pretty hard to notice the large, orange lights flickering every now and then, spinning on the top of a white van parked horizontally along the road, blocking entrance to the bridge.

The car in front was still there, and the man was _still_ talking. It'd been at least five minutes and Santana had grown impatient. She glanced to Brittany quickly who looked at her quizzically and shook her head. A pale hand reached across the centre console and rested again a caramel one. The brunette almost lurched away from the touch, but it was like a strange sort of fire. The initial constant was burning, and continued too, but somehow it was like a wash of relief. Like being warmed up by a fire after spending a day out in winter, it wasn't unwanted, or uncomfortable, just strange.

"San, calm down." Brittany said softly.

The Latina's body immediately wiped of any frustration and instead focused on the thumb moving in circular motions on the back of her hand. She felt the goose bumps rise up her arms, causing the hairs to stick up and she glanced up to see blue eyes fixated on her forearm, just watching the bumps rise.

She swallowed and looked up into bright cerulean orbs. Her tongue ran along her lips instinctively and she summoned the courage to twist her hand, turning it palm up and trail her fingertips in between Brittany's long, slender fingers. Brittany's breath hitched audibly, and the Latina almost found herself smiling stupidly as her heart expanded against her chest. There was no guilt, no sadness, no regret, nothing except their pounding hearts and ragged breaths. When their fingers threaded together, clasping on tightly to each other like they never wanted to let go Santana found herself leaning across the centre console towards Brittany who was staring at her with complete adoration.

Quinn didn't even cross her mind as she felt Brittany's hot breath blanket her face. Their lips were inches away from each other and the blonde's overwhelmingly intoxicating scent hit Santana like a train on a track. A knock on the window snapped them out of the stupor, and they jumped apart, fingers unthreading and bodies moving as far away from each other as much as possible inside the cab of the car.

Santana couldn't stay in the car any longer, and clicked on the handle, sliding out the car and leaving Brittany inside. She looked up and found herself standing in front of the orange florescent jacketed man who was younger than she expected. Probably around nineteen or twenty.

"I apologise for keeping you waiting but unfortunately the bridge won't be open tonight. It's not safe to cross, but it should be ready in the morning."

The Latina exhaled in frustration and clenched her fists. She looked back into the car, expecting Brittany and panic coursed through her as she found an empty passenger seat.

"Why?"

Santana whipped her head around, hearing the click her neck made as she did so to find Brittany standing in front of the car with her arms crossed. The Latina gulped and ducked her head, staring intently at the floor as she saw the hurt and regret flicker behind steel blue eyes. She watched as the man shuffled his weight onto his other legs and did a once over on Brittany, leaving his eyes to linger a little longer than necessary on her bare legs. His eyes gleamed, even in the darkness and a small smile tugged at his lips.

The brunette almost lost it right then and there. A wave of pure hot jealously crashed against her body, spreading down her arms and burning her fingers to curl into a fist. The man moved forward, further away from Santana and towards Brittany who seemed to acknowledge his obvious leering. Blue eyes met brown ones, and suddenly the Latina noticed how obviously jealous she really was. She had no right, she didn't know why she was reacting like this, she had a girlfriend and Brittany was single. And hell, it was Brittany for God's sake. Brittany fucking Pierce, the most attractive girl Santana had ever laid eyes on. Well, apart from Quinn of course. She wasn't going to stay single for long.

"She asked why jackass." Santana hissed, not being able to control the piping hot jealousy as she watched the man lose himself whilst staring at the blonde.

He snapped his head up, not even the slightest bit embarrassed by the drool glistening on the corner of his mouth, and grinned smugly. "I heard. Just, got distracted by uhm... Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"She didn't give it." Santana mumbled under her breath.

Brittany chuckled and playfully pushed the man on the shoulder, "Brittany. My name's Brittany."

The man reacted by resting on his palm on the bonnet of the car, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning closer towards Brittany. The blonde darted her gaze up to Santana, who remained by the driver's door just glaring at them with fiery brown orbs and clenched fists, and Santana could've sworn she saw _taste of your own medicine_ written in invisible ink across her face.

"My name's Jack. Jack Davis."

Santana ran her tongue along the insides of her teeth and grinded them together loudly. Without even consciously making the decision, she stepped forward and swiped her hand to knock 'Jacks' palm off the bonnet, causing him to stumble slightly and flush with embarrassment.

"She didn't ask your fucking name," Santana growled, "She asked why the bridge was closed."

Jack's eyes flickered between the two girls, and he raised his hands defensively as if something clicked in his mind, "Oh whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to hit on your girl. I apologise. But the bridge is closed 'cause of the storm. It won't be open till tomorrow morning, around 6am."

Santana's eyes widened comically and Brittany raised an eyebrow, letting out a dry, sarcastic laugh. She didn't even register the information about the bridge, she basically switched off as soon as she heard the words _your girl _come from Jack's mouth. She was about to speak when the blonde cut in, and stepped forward, running her finger down the middle of Jack's chest flirtatiously.

"We're not together," Brittany started firmly, and the Latina could hear the disappointment lacing her tone, "So you have no need to apologise."

The Latina shook her head in disbelief. Well, it's not like it wasn't true. They weren't together, she was with Quinn, but it still didn't feel right. It was ridiculous, she was getting jealous over someone that wasn't hers, someone who should actually be more focused on the fact her father could be lying on a metal tray somewhere in a stone cold morgue.

"Britt," Santana half-yelled, "Your dad."

The blonde's face contorted into an incredulous expression, and she narrowed her eyes quickly at the brunette, "Isn't there anyway you could open the bridge just for us?" Brittany said, fluttering her eyes seductively.

Santana was pretty sure her inside would completely burn out by the time she was done watching Brittany and fucking Jack. Fucking Jack and his stupid bright orange coat that made him look like some type of fucking cartoon. Who the fuck did he think he was? Flirting with Brittany? Fuck.

Jack stuttered, clearing his throat several times, "Uh, n-no, I'm a-afraid not Bri-Brittany."

_Stop calling her by her name, you don't fucking know her_, Santana thought as she grinded her teeth together. The blonde flicked her hair from one shoulder, revealing a very creamy pale neck that looked just _so_ touchable. Jack's eyes widened just the tiny bit more, and Santana watched as his gulped audibly and a thin layer of sweat form across his brow.

Brittany ran her hand through the side of Jack's brown hair, grazing his scalp with her fingertips lightly. He visibly shuddered and Santana grimaced.

"Are you sure you can't do _anything_ Jacky?" Brittany said, biting on her bottom lip.

The Latina looked away, knowing the sight of Brittany flirting was not only incredibly irritating, frustrating, and all those types of things, but it kind of turned her on.

Jack shook his head, "N-no, s-sorry B-B-Britt, boss' o-orders."

Brittany grinned and carefully caressed Jack's cheek. Santana shook her head, and suddenly something snapped inside of her. It was like an elastic band stretching and stretching, just waiting to break. And that way the blonde let her fingertips linger over the stranger's cheek just a little _too_ long did it.

She pushed Jack's shoulder, and slid in between her and the blonde, her back a tad too close to Brittany's chest. She could feel the dancer's breath on the back of her neck, and she swallowed against her thickened throat as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Your name's rather fitting for someone like you," Santana hissed, her eyes doing a judgemental once over on his small frame, "Considering you're a _Jack_-ass and all. Now tell me where the nearest motel is before the storm becomes the least of your worries around here."

Jack's eyes widened, taking full effect of the threat, and Santana could feel the smile tugging at Brittany's lips even though she hadn't directly looked at her. The man fidgeted with his fingers momentarily, before wiping his brow with the back of his hand and stumbling backwards a few steps.

"Head back down that road and then take the first left. It'll be just on the corner." Jack responded, sheer horror lacing his tone.

The Latina felt the satisfaction sink in as she cocked her head to the side quickly, smirking at the shaking boy and slid back into the car. She switched the engine on louder than necessary, still feeling the after effects of the jealousy and beeped the horn, beckoning Brittany to climb into the car. The blonde looked at her in disbelief and shook her head, rubbing Jack's forearm reassuringly before climbing back into the passenger seat with crossed arms.

As soon as they started towards the motel, leaving a terrified Jack behind, she wished she could take back her actions. She sorted through her mind, inwardly chucking the pointless thoughts aside to try and find something, literally anything as an explanation for her actions.

* * *

><p>They arrived at their destination, and not a word was spoken between them. It was silent as they parked, slid out the car, grabbing their duffel bags out the back and towards the reception where they met a young, ginger girl with bright green eyes.<p>

Santana rapped on the countertop, trying to grab the girls attention as her iPod earphones where in and her nose buried in a book, "Uh, excuse me?"

The girl didn't reply and Santana scowled. She stole a quick glance at Brittany who was looking around the room, anger radiating off her and leaned over the top. She nabbed the book between her fingers, ripping it away from the girl who stared at her incredulously.

"Yo, carrot top." Santana hissed, gesturing to the girls headphones.

The girl slowly took out each headphone, looking slightly terrified by Santana's stance as she threw the book down carelessly along the top where it fell off the edge with a thud, "Apologise Miss. How can I help you?"

"Have you got a room for tonight?"

Brittany wandered around the room, further away from Santana who rolled her eyes. She knew as soon as they got into the room she was either going to get yelled at, interrogated or blanked.

"Actually, room-_s_, plural?" Santana added quickly, deciding she really just wanted to sleep without having to explain her actions as she had no idea what the hell she was going to say.

The ginger girl flipped the pages of the log book, trailing her finger down the pages as she searched for a room. Her finger stopped at the bottom of the page and she looked up to meet fiery brown orbs.

"We actually only have one room."

Santana grimaced and turned to Brittany who was looking up at a picture, chin tilted upwards and arms crossed. They didn't really have an option, and Santana just decided she would sleep in the car, probably the best idea.

"I'll take it." She murmured, handing over her credit card and receiving the keys.

Within a few minutes, Santana and Brittany were making their way down the dim litted walkway, which had a thin, plastic roof in silence. The Latina swallowed and they approached the room, where she slid in the key and twisted the lock, budging it with her shoulder when it decided not to open. She stood aside, waving her hand in front of her to gesture for Brittany to go in first.

A weak smile graced the blondes face and she brushed past Santana, entering the room and chucking down Brittany's duffel bag on the small sofa leaning against the left wall. There was a small, double bed situated in the centre of the room, the headboard leaning against the far right wall and a small bathroom at the back. A tiny TV rested on top of a dusty, dresser next to the sofa, and Santana scanned the room, inwardly debating whether sleeping in the car would actually be the safer option.

"There's only one bed." Brittany muttered, fiddling with fingernails.

Santana looked everywhere around the room, staring at everything that wasn't Brittany. She shuffled her weight, sliding her thumb underneath the strap of her duffel bag and clearing her throat, "I'm actually gonna stay in the truck tonight."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, "The truck?"

"Yeah. It's kind of comfy."

The blonde took a step forward, minimising the gap between them, "We both know that's not true."

The Latina sighed heavily and threw her bag down next to Brittany's. They worked around each other, making sure not to stay to close to each other for any longer than necessary as tension was building between them, and it was turning into another fucking elephant. One second glances were too long and even a few sentences made the situation even more uncomfortable and awkward.

Santana just stood in the corner watching as Brittany moved around the room. The blonde crossed her arms as she examined the paintings and various pieces of furniture, and the Latina couldn't prevent the smile that came as the blonde cocked her head to the side and pouted. She actually had to turn around and pretend to look for something because she was smiling like an idiot. Fuck why did Brittany have to have this effect on her?

All of a sudden Brittany sighed and started chuckling dryly. Santana made her way over to a chair in the corner of the room, pondering the reason for the sudden outburst. After a few seconds curiosity took over and Santana approached the chair, throwing her coat down on it and turning to the dancer.

"Why are you laughing?"

Brittany turned, "I'm in a hurry to see if my dad is dead. It's kind of surreal."

Santana took the chair by the armrests and moved it closer to the bed, "Yeah, it's pretty messed up."

"You know how in dreams you really need to get to someplace but you never really get there?"

The Latina nodded, a quizzical expression pasting her face, "Yeah…"

Brittany sat down on the bed, her back facing Santana with her shoulders hunched, "I wish I could wake up." The blonde said sadly.

It took everything in Santana's body to restrain from getting up and just hugging Brittany. It wasn't a burning lust, or sexually driven, she just felt the intense need to comfort her because there was just something so _wrong_ about Brittany being sad. Her usual bouncy, bright demeanour was being taken over by what Santana could only relate to as being a sad panda.

It physically hurt Santana to watch the blonde's emotions take a hold of her. Santana had heard rumours that Brittany wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, that it took a while for her to understand things and that she had a front that she'd put up because of the supposed 'stupidity'. But Santana could relate to it, she understood that people were mean, and said things that constantly played over and over in her mind, lowering her self-esteem and battering her down. She knew that Brittany put up a wall, used her popularity and status to keep herself guarded. It was a defence mechanism.

But the Latina saw through that, even from day one. She only saw the sheer innocence and deep thought behind the blonde's random outbursts. It was obvious, well to Santana anyway, that Brittany didn't fit into the Cheerio standards. Yeah, she may have dated that asshole Puck, she may walk around most days wearing the Cheerio outfit and she may be best friends with the known bitch of the school. But she was more than that. She was better than that. And right now it was obvious to see it.

"Maybe we should get some sleep." Santana murmured, not knowing anything else to say. I mean, shit, what was she supposed to say? Brittany's dad was alright, everything would be fine and dandy? No. Because she didn't know that. And Brittany knew that too.

Brittany's head turned so Santana could see the side of the blonde's glorious face, and nodded slowly.

"Think you can?"

Once again the blonde nodded.

"Okay," Santana said as she stood up, "I'll just sleep on the floor."

The blonde whipped her head around, placing her palms behind her and leaning back slightly, "Don't be stupid San."

The Latina nodded, not knowing quite how awkward sleeping next to Brittany would be. It's not that she didn't want too, but sleeping next to a person she shared some serious sexual tension with was going to be tricky as hell. She walked back to the door to turn the light off, quickly peering out the window to check the car was alright, and noticing the rain starting to pour. She inhaled deeply, and hoped to God the bridge would open soon.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Santana rounded the chair and sat on the side of the bed, her back facing the blonde who was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. She told herself to breathe, to relax and just try to get to sleep as soon as possible. But not before she could make sure Brittany was alright. Her back twisted slightly, so she looked down at the face she knew was there. The moonlight highlighted the blonde's features - her high cheekbones, sparkling blue eyes and pale, creamy skin. God, she was so damn beautiful.<p>

"Brittany?"

Steel blue eyes locked with chocolate brown, "Yeah?"

"I wish there was something I could do, or say to help you through this." Santana whispered softly and sincerely. She meant every word. Seeing Brittany like this was painful. And she would do anything, if she could, to make sure the blonde was alright.

"Thank you Santana, you're already doing a lot by just being here."

The Latina's heart fluttered. Fuck, stop. She really didn't need to be focusing on the way Brittany made her feel. It was selfish and right now the dancer wasn't exactly focused on the thing Santana was. She knew she needed to stop. So instead Santana nodded and gave Brittany a weak smile, twisting her body until she was lying down next to the blonde, in the same position as she faced the ceiling.

"Night San." Brittany whispered.

Santana heard the sadness lacing the blonde's usually cheery tone and inwardly kicked herself for being so selfish about the situation. She was completely focused on her feelings and studying the way Brittany was looking at her, and acting towards her, and not really taking the blonde's feelings into consideration.

They lay there for a while, completely silent. Santana shuffled a bit, folding one arm and putting it behind her head so she was leaning on it. The only thing she could hear was the rain and Brittany breathing. It was so relaxing just listening to the way Brittany inhaled and exhaled softly, hearing the way the oxygen escaped her lips. Her eyes roamed out the window, and she watched as each raindrop hit the window, and watching it as it trailed down the pane, leaving a small trail behind it.

It was about 1am when she felt Brittany shuffle next to her. She turned her head, and looked to Brittany who stared back almost immediately. Even in the darkness, the blonde's blue eyes sparkled, and Santana felt her heard quicken its beat.

"Hey."

Brittany's lips curled up at the sides into a small smile, "Hey."

Brown eyes darted down to the silver bracelet dangling from Brittany's hands. She furrowed her brows, "What you got?"

"_With all my love to my princess, love Dad,_" Brittany breathed as she turned the bracelet between her nimble fingers,_ "_He gave it to me on my last birthday."

Santana's heart almost faltered at the sound of the blonde's voice. It was so un-Brittany. Blue eyes flickered to something in the darkness of the room, but Santana kept her eyes trained on the dancer. Her hands tingled, and she clamped her muscles down to make sure she didn't reach over and hug the girl next to her.

Santana was never a comforting type of person. Usually when a person was upset it was either by her doing or she felt awkward trying to look after them. She usually just let someone else take care of whoever was upset, because it was never her thing. But there was something about Brittany that just brought it out in her.

"I miss him San." The blonde whispered, looking deep into Santana's eyes.

She squinted slightly, taking in all the sadness. She couldn't stop as her eyes roamed around the blonde's face, hovering over her luscious looking lips. She gulped audibly and felt her breathing becoming heaver, more ragged. Brittany's chest started moving faster, and Santana clenched her jaw, trying to focus on the situation here instead of the effect the dancer was having on her body. With her eyes fixed on Brittany, she tightened her grip of her hair, trying to create pain to distract her from her obvious attraction to the blonde lying next to her.

"It'll be alright. He's going to be fine." Santana said reassuringly, trying to convince herself as well as Brittany.

The dancer sighed and turned onto her side, away from Santana. The Latina reached out her hand, and allowed her fingertips to linger about a centimetre or two away from Brittany's blonde locks. She inhaled deeply, and felt her fingertips tingle with electricity as she hovered over the creamy skin covering Brittany's shoulder blade.

Quinn flashed into her brain and she snapped her hand back, realising how creepy it looked. Oh wait, and the fact she had a girlfriend. She shook her head, and pushed up so she was in a sitting position. Her palms pressed down against the top of the comforter, and she exhaled deeply as the back of one of her hands brushed against her brow. The back of her eyes ached and her chest was constricting. Santana knew she shouldn't feel this way. She knew she shouldn't be this god damn attracted to her girlfriend's best friend. She knew just how wrong the situation between her and Brittany were, but it didn't matter. It had already happened.

"San?" Brittany asked sleepily, "What you doing?"

The Latina exhaled slowly, "I'm gonna go get a drink from the vending machine, do you want one?"

The blonde mumbled something unintelligible, and then Santana heard the soft snores escape the girl's mouth. She smiled lightly and grabbed the comforter lying at the top of the bed, draping it over the dancer's slender body. Every time Santana's caramel skin neared Brittany's creamy skin, a spark formed between the two. At first it'd scared the Latina, but after a while watching it happen just mesmerized her.

She rubbed the top of her jean-cladded thighs with sweaty palms and pushed off the bed, grabbing her coat off the chair before putting it on. Her eyes glanced quickly to her phone and she took note that she had around five hours until they had to leave. Fuck.

Five long hours with her feeling like that around Brittany, and sleeping next to her.

_Fuck._

* * *

><p>Santana took longer than necessary as she headed outside. She bought two cans of Coke, a packet of cheese and onion crisps, knowing Brittany loved them, and two chocolate bars before heading back to the room. As she approached the door, images and memories of her and Quinn raced through her mind and stomach dropped with guilt. Right inside the room in front of her a girl she undeniably had intense feelings for. There was no point in denying it anymore. It was true and she couldn't be bothered to fight it anymore.<p>

So many questions ran through her head. Should she break up with Quinn? No. She loved her, she was her girlfriend. Just because she also had feelings for her girlfriend's best friend doesn't mean that she can't stay with Quinn. It wasn't going to hurt Quinn or Brittany, because Brittany didn't feel that way about her. She couldn't. It's the girl code or some shit.

"Fuck." Santana breathed as she leant forward, pressing her forehead against the damp wooden door. She rolled her head from side to side; squeezing her eyes shut and prayed to will away the feelings for the blonde. Everything was just so fucked up.

She exhaled and grinded her teeth, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door as quietly as possible. As soon as she entered, she felt Brittany's scent hit her like a train on a track. She almost staggered backwards, but allowed herself to sink into the aroma as she'd have to at some point anyway.

The Latina stepped as quietly as possible, trying to make sure the crisp packet didn't make any noise as she put all the items down on the table. She heard a shuffle and immediately sensed that Brittany was awake.

"What's all this?"

Santana looked up and grinned as Brittany straightened herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hand. The sight was adorable. The way Brittany's nose scrunched up, the way her eyes were dark and lightly hooded, the way she smiled as soon as she looked at Santana, and how her eyes brightened up immediately.

_Oh God…_

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you," Santana whispered as she grabbed a can of Coke.

"I wasn't asleep." Brittany replied in raspy voice. Damn that was sexy.

Santana grinned and held up the can, "Hit the vending machines," She said as she threw the can towards Brittany.

The blonde caught it with precision and bit down on her bottom lip. Santana could've sworn she saw Brittany blush, but she knocked it off assuming it was just her making things up. She reached down to the table, and grabbed the packet of crisps and a chocolate bar, before heading over to the bed and taking a seat on the edge.

Santana's eyes flickered up, and she was suddenly hyper aware of how close she was to Brittany. Their knees were nearly touching as she placed the food in between them and their faces were less than a metre apart. Santana shuffled, so one of her legs was tucked underneath her, and the other hung off the side of the bed, moving just that little bit further away from Brittany.

Something flashed behind blue eyes as Santana moved, and it didn't go by without her noticing. She furrowed her brows quickly before pushing both items towards the blonde, "Just in case you were hungry." She reasoned.

The blonde chuckled lightly and nodded, grabbing the packet of crisps and smiling, "These are my favourite." Brittany muttered.

"I know."

Blue eyes locked with brown. They sit there for a few seconds just looking at one another. Santana's stared deeply into mesmerizing crystal blue orbs, and felt her heart quicken it's beat, whilst Brittany cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Santana couldn't help but feel that the blonde was seeing through her, looking deep into her soul and examining every part of her. No-one had ever done this to her, and she knew it should have made her feel vulnerable and weak, but it didn't. It made her feel strangely safe.

Brittany was the first to break the silence by clearing her throat. "When my mom died, my dad didn't know how to cook. So I basically lived on Lucky Charms and processed food during my childhood."

Santana let out a small chuckle and nodded. But continued to stare at the dancer, "Lucky Charms is my favourite cereal. Especially the marshmallows. If I could eat just a box of them alone, that would be like the best thing ever."

The blonde glanced up and grinned lightly, "I thought I was the only one who wanted a Lucky Charms marshmallow filled box."

The Latina felt a strange tug at her heart, and she licked her lips as her eyes darted to Brittany's lips quickly, "Nope, me too."

They both went silent, and Brittany opened the crisps, reaching inside and popping one into his mouth. Santana fiddled with the hem of her jeans and bit her lip nervously. There was a strange energy in the room, it wasn't anything the Latina had ever felt before, but it wasn't an unwelcome or uncomfortable. However when she glanced up, Brittany was staring at her and she heard the blonde's breath hitch. She swallowed against a thickened throat and watched as Brittany's mouth opened to say something. It closed just as quickly and Santana nervously rubbed her hand up and down her forearm.

"Well, I'm gonna try and get some sleep." Santana said, breaking the silence.

Brittany's face twisted in disappointment. But the Latina kept repeating Quinn's name over and over again in her head as she grabbed the chocolate bar and placed it back on the table. She returned to the bed and laid on her side, back to the dancer as she willed herself to fall asleep instantly, repeating her girlfriend's name in her head. The bed dipped beside her, and then softened as Brittany stood up.

Santana felt another pang of guilt strike her chest and she looked over her shoulder quickly, watching Brittany's retreating form head for the bathroom silently. Fuck. She wouldn't be able to do this for long.

* * *

><p><em>"I'm so glad you're safe daddy."<em>

Santana stirred, and rolled onto her back. She cracked open her eyes and squinted as the moonlight proceeded to shine through the floor length window by the door. For a second, she forgot where she was as she took in her surroundings. But the situation snapped back to her and she sat up.

_Daddy?_

"Britt?" Santana called, looking around the darkness to find the dancers body, "Britt?"

The blonde's head appeared from around the corner, and despite the darkness, Santana saw the brightness of her blue eyes. A pale, slender finger pointed to the phone Brittany was grasping and she grinned from ear to ear, mouthing 'he's safe'. Thank God for that. Her dad was safe.

Santana nodded, "Sorry."

Brittany disappeared again and the Latina felt relief wash over her body. She tilted her head up, and rolled her neck until it cracked. Her hand rubbed the base of her neck and she exhaled. Santana knew it would be alright from the beginning, she knew her Brittany's dad would be alive and that all would work out. However what she didn't expect was the disappointment that sunk into her chest. She didn't know what the cause of it was, but she sure as hell knew it wasn't to do with Brittany's dad. Then it clicked. Her and Brittany's alone time was coming to an end.

"Stop."

"Stop what?" Brittany repeated as she walked back towards the bed, with the bounce back in her step.

Santana darted her eyes from side to side nervously, "Uh, nothing."

A single fair eyebrow rose sceptically, "You sure about that?"

"Yeah. Nothing."

The blonde lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling as she drummed her fingertips on her one size too small, tank top cladded stomach. Santana could feel the blue eyes burning into her temple and she continued to stare straight into the darkness.

"So, uh, what happened? Your dad's okay?"

The bed moved beneath her, "Yeah, apparently he hadn't even left yet because of the storm warning, so he's fine."

Santana nodded, "That's great Britt. I told you it'd be okay."

She felt a warm palm press against her lower back and she almost flinched at the touch as it burned through her t-shirt. But the burn was welcoming, it felt so right and Santana found herself leaning into it. Her neck twisted and cobalt orbs locked with coffee ones.

"Thank you San, I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here." Brittany whispered, sincerity lacing her tone.

Santana opened her mouth, and she felt her lower lip quiver as if she was deciding whether to smile or not. The words raced through her mind, Brittany was glad she was there. She was happy that Santana had been there. Surely that meant something?

She didn't want to read into it, so instead she settled with a nod, "It's what friends are for."

Brittany's eyes darkened, and the Latina watched as disappointment flashed behind blue eyes. Santana gulped audibly and bit on her bottom lip, pulling back until her back hit the mattress. She stretched her arms out, and settled them down loosely against her side. The hairs on her arms rose as their forearms brushed lightly against one another. The brunette inhaled sharply, and tried to ignore the fact she heard the blonde next to her do exactly the same thing.

"Are you in love with Quinn?"

Santana frowned in disbelief. Did Brittany really ask her that? "What?"

"Are you in love with Quinn?" Brittany repeated as if it was the most normal question in the world.

The brunette swallowed and licked her lips, "Uh, I don't know. I guess so."

The bed dipped the slightest bit further and Santana almost whimpered as she felt Brittany's arm moved from beside hers. Her head rolled, and she looked to the side to see the blonde on her side, facing Santana, leaning on one elbow and cupping the chin in that hand.

"I mean, how do you even know? Were you in love with Puck?" Santana added, not wanting to put herself in a difficult position and wanting to take the focus off her. Frankly, telling Brittany that she wasn't in love with Quinn was pretty bad. But saying she was in love with Quinn… Well, that could possibly cause her to question her feelings for the head cheerleader. Fuck.

The blonde trailed her finger over the comforter between the two bodies, picking at the stitching, "Well, Quinn asked me the same question. And I knew that my immediate response was no, because it wasn't instantly yes. If that makes sense."

Santana propped herself up on her elbows, "So does that mean I'm not in love with Q?"

Brittany shrugged, well as much as she could as she was on her side, "Well I guess it's different for every person. So just because it was like that for me doesn't mean it is for you."

The Latina thought back to when she found out about Puck and Brittany breaking up. Didn't Quinn say that Brittany felt something for someone else?

"Is that why you broke up with him?"

Blue eyes widened slightly, and despite the darkness, Santana still saw it, "I, uh, yeah. I guess so."

Chocolate orbs met cerulean ones, and Santana immediately started searching them. She wasn't entirely sure what for, but she knew deep inside those orbs was the answer to the question she'd been asking herself. Neither of them broke the gaze, it was like they were locked in an intense battle that neither wanted to lose, because it would show weakness.

The Latina found herself leaning forward, and Brittany slowly moved backwards towards the mattress. It was like there was a tether between the two, when one moved, the other went with it. Santana knew she should be wanting to fight it; she knew she _should_ fight it, but her body had different ideas and apparently, Brittany's did too.

Before she could stop her hand, it had crept across the comforter and settled beside the blonde's side. Santana felt Brittany suck in slowly, and saw the goose bumps rise on creamy skin as she slid her hand up the blonde's side until it was resting on Brittany's abs. She shivered inwardly and felt the abs beneath her palm and the tank top twitch at her touch. She smiled and thought back to Brittany dancing, and how it must have created that wonderfully toned stomach.

Santana watched her tanned hand linger gently over the dancer's stomach, and swallowed thickly as she watched the tank top rise up to reveal a slither of perfect, pale skin. The contact lingered, and their eyes met once more. But there was no hesitation, words clearly hadn't served Santana well before, so instead she let her body take over.

"I know you were jealous when I was flirting with Jack," Brittany whispered, her voice deep and coated with lust, "I know you feel it too."

Santana wanted to deny it; she knew she should be denying it. But she couldn't. She had been jealous, incredibly jealous. More jealous than she'd ever been over anyone in her entire life. So she didn't even try to deny it. Instead, she leaned in, closing the gap between them. Their lips brushed against each other quickly and softly, almost as if they weren't kissing. The top half of Santana's body covered the top half of Brittany's and she repeated the movement, holding still for a long moment. She felt the blonde freeze, her lips still as the jolt of electricity sparked between the two. Panic immediately set in, and Santana wondered whether the girl underneath her would pull away or not.

But then she felt Brittany kiss back. A soft moan escaped one of their mouths, but Santana was too caught up in the moment to take note of who it was. Soft, gentle lips met full ones, and for a second, Santana wondered if she was going to wake up or not. But no, it was real.

Santana felt Brittany's lips curl into a smile against her own, and she pressed forward, leaning in for more contact. Pale hands instantly came up and tangled in Santana's dark hair, securing their faces together as Brittany tilted her head for more access. The Latina gripped the dancers side, squeezing gently as her other arm kept her propped up. She felt Brittany part her lips, and take in her bottom lip and this time she knew it was her who moaned.

The Latina inhaled through her nose and deepened the kiss, parting her lips wider to flick her tongue against Brittany's lower lip. The blonde accepted and their tongues slid in and around each other. Santana traced the contours of the dancer's mouth, memorizing every piece of it and marvelling at her taste. Their lips continued to move as Santana trailed her hand down Brittany's side, grazing her nails lightly against the blonde's tank top covered ribs.

Their heavy breathing practically drowned out the sound of the rain just outside of the window, and Santana tilted her head further as they began a practiced rhythm, and found which angles were more beneficial. Santana's hand found the top of Brittany's thigh, and she curled her fingers along the toned muscle, bending the leg into a right angle as it hitched against her hip.

The blonde took the reins and shuffled until their hips collided together as Santana used her free hand to cup the back of Brittany's neck. Tongues continued to slide against each other, and moans continued to escape their mouths. It was hard to believe they hadn't been doing this the entire time, and Santana knew she really didn't want to stop. The want and need to go further burned into her limbs, and as if Brittany felt it to, the blonde rolled until her knees were pressed into the bed either side of Santana's hips, so she was straddling her.

Santana smiled against Brittany's lips, and she felt the blonde's lips do the same. She placed both of her hands on the dancer's waist, applying the smallest of pressure on her fingertips to make sure it was actually happening, that it wasn't some amazing dream that she would wake up from. They pulled apart, only for the need of oxygen and Brittany rested her forehead against Santana's.

Their breathing was ragged, and the Latina finally felt the way her and Brittany's body clicked together. Their hips connected together like two pieces of a puzzle, and at that moment, the only thing running through Santana's brain was the beautiful blonde straddling her.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." Santana whispered softly, licking her lips and smiling at the taste of Brittany that remained on her lips.

She finally opened her eyes to see Brittany staring back at her with hooded, lustful eyes and swollen, puffy lips. She grinned and the blonde mimicked her movement, both of them smiling like idiots. Her hand released itself from the dancer's side, and she brushed a golden lock behind Brittany's ear, marvelling at the softness of the creamy skin.

Brittany nudged Santana's nose with her own, and the Latina responded by pressing a soft kiss to the blonde's lips. The blonde leaned more into Santana's body, putting more passion behind her kiss. A soft tumble escaped the brunette's mouth, and onto her tongue, and it tasted just like it did the first time they kissed.

The kiss deepened once more, and Santana loosened her grip on Brittany's waist, curving her palms down to the dancer's hips, and around to her ass where she slid her hands into Brittany's back pockets. A quick tug, and their hips started grinding together as their mouths continued in rhythm, moans and groans erupting from quick breaks in their kissing.

Pale fingers gripped dark hair tighter, twisting it between Brittany's nimble fingers and securing their faces together. Tongues continued to collide, rolling and sliding over each other in a practiced rhythm. With one last chaste kiss, Brittany pulled away quickly and reached for the hem of her top. A quick movement, and the blonde was suddenly straddling Santana in only a purple, lacy bra.

Santana grinned and her eyes raked over the dancer toned body, marvelling at every contour, dip and ripple of Brittany's muscle. A confident feeling flooded through Santana's body, and instead of being nervous like she thought she would be, she's cool and calm. Her mind almost runs blank as Brittany's bare skin brushed up against hers, and she can feel the heat burns through her top.

The Latina pulled away, and motioned for Brittany to pull off her own top, which she did without a question, leaving Santana in a black sports bra. Once again, they returned to kissing and Santana groaned loudly as their silky skin pressed against each other. Her fingers brushed the top of the blonde's thighs, and she heard Brittany whimper as she started to move her hips. The dancer immediately responded by pushing hers forward, and closing her eyes at the restricted friction.

The brunette pushed up, and rolled Brittany until she was between the dancers toned thighs, pushing their clothed, heated centres together. Brittany's legs spread a little more in reaction, and Santana felt as the blonde's hands slid between the two bodies, trailing along the top of the Latina's jeans until she reached the buttons. Her forehead fell against Brittany's shoulder, and she made a muffled sound into the blonde's pale skin as their hips grinded deeply against each other, the heat evident through the fabric.

Suddenly everything got real. Like, _really_ real. And Santana pulled away, whimpering at the sudden loss of Brittany's body pressed against her own. She swallowed and looked down at Brittany, whose fingers were no longer fumbling with the button. Chocolate orbs looked deeply into cerulean ones and despite knowing that the situation should've been wrong; there was no doubt or regret in either of their eyes.

"Britt…" Santana panted out, her voice small and breathless. She wanted to say something to justify their actions; she wanted to say anything to somehow make what they were doing right. But she couldn't.

"Don't…" Brittany stammered, "Just…"

The words died out, and Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's, just marvelling at the painless burn that formed on her skin whenever caramel skin met creamy skin. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, romantic kiss to the blonde's lips before returning her forehead to Brittany's.

"I want you." Santana whispered. It only took a few seconds before she registered what she said and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She expected Brittany took kick her off, to suddenly realise what they were doing and who they were effecting. But in that moment, Santana was pretty sure neither of them cared, and instead she received an answer she never expected.

"You have me."

And then Santana returned her lips to Brittany's. The only place that she knew she wanted them to be.

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><p><strong>Once again, I really do apologize for the long wait! Anyway I hope you've enjoyed and please take a few seconds to review and tell me your thoughts on this. It would be greatly appreciated.<strong>

**Thank you!**


	13. Follow Your Heart, Not Your Head

**Added spanish translations as requested by anon! Sorry guys!**

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><p><strong>Sorry for the wait guys (again)!<strong>

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please take a few seconds to leave a comment!**

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.

**Rating: **R (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate (unfortunately)

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><p><em>"Don't let your past dictate who you are, but let it be part of who you will become."<br>_- My Big Fat Greek Wedding

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>****Chapter ****Thirteen**

_"I want you." Santana whispered. It only took a few seconds before she registered what she said and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She expected Brittany took kick her off, to suddenly realise what they were doing and who they were effecting. But in that moment, Santana was pretty sure neither of them cared, and instead she received an answer she never expected._

_"You have me."_

_And then Santana returned her lips to Brittany's. The only place that she knew she wanted them to be._

Santana took the reins, sliding her tongue into Brittany's mouth and stroking over her tongue slowly and sensually. The blonde let out a small moan, her fingers gripping tighter as the Latina traced every curve and carefully caressed the inside of Brittany's mouth. Within seconds, pale fingers were sliding around an olive waist, one single digit dipping into the top of Santana's jeans and flicking at the waistband.

Their lips parted, and Brittany looked deeply into Santana's eye, silently asking for permission. The brunette grinned from ear to ear, and azure orbs immediately lit up, glowing in the darkness of the room. As soon as one button popped open, a groan escaped full lips, and Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's shoulder, in any attempt to muffle her embarrassingly loud moans. She twisted her head to press soft kisses to the pale slope of the dancer's neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive spot below Brittany's ear.

"Britt, eres tan bella. _(Britt, you are so beautiful.)"_ Santana whispered into the dancer's ear, taking a pale earlobe between her teeth and sucking lightly.

Brittany pulled back, smirking as she popped open the second button, and placed two hands at Santana's zip, slowly lowering and causing the Latina to nearly come right there and then. The blonde bit her bottom lip seductively, and Santana moaned and shuddered with arousal. Literally, if it hadn't been for the want to go further, and intense concentration, Santana would've definitely came by now. She shook her head lightly, feeling her own covered heat pressing down against Brittany's before crushing their lips together, harder than before. The blonde must have sensed the lust and arousal, because she decided to take control by flipping the Latina, and re-straddling her with a seductive smirk.

However, as Santana's fingertips scratched lightly against Brittany's ribs, and as their lips met once more, a sudden buzzing broke them from their daze. The blonde stilled against Santana, and after a few seconds, she pulled away. The Latina stared quizzically up at the girl above her, watching as she was fixated on something to the left of them.

"Uh, Britt?" Santana asked in a raspy tone. She almost blushed at how aroused she sounded. She'd heard herself whenever she was… Erotically charged, so to speak, but this time it was deeper than it ever had been before. A smirk graced her face as she realised just how much of an effect Brittany had on her.

But her attention quickly returned to the blonde, who had continued to stay silent. The dancer's body was still glowing in the moonlight, and brown eyes roamed up the taut stomach and defined collarbones until they fell upon a fixed gaze. Santana followed the eye line, until she fell upon her phone, which apparently created the buzzing sound. For a second, she wondered why Brittany was so fixed on the phone, because, well, they were about to get it on and the last thing Santana was thinking about was her damn phone. But that was until she saw what was on the screen. Santana's heart plummeted to her stomach, and her mouth ran dry as she craned her neck, just that little bit further to confirm what she thought was true.

_Oh fuck._

"Quinn's calling you." Brittany said in monotone voice. But Santana could still hear the sadness lacing her words.

Something happened in those few seconds. Those few seconds that seemed to last longer than a few seconds should've done. And Santana watched it as everything slowly unveiled. It was as if the world had suddenly returned to them after they'd been on a whole other, and hell of a lot more simplistic, world - just giving into their deepest hidden urges and not worrying about everything back in the real world. But as soon as brown eyes locked on blue, the brunette watched as reality slapped both of them in the face, then throwing them violently back into what was actually true and real. Which included Santana having a girlfriend, and Brittany being said girlfriend's best friend.

The blonde quickly rolled off Santana, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Santana immediately felt her stomach drop with guilt as her eyes flickered over to the blonde and then to her phone. She knew she should pick up, because it was her girlfriend, but there was an ever-growing urge building up inside of her, telling her to ignore it and go back to kissing Brittany. But then she remembered the hurt flashing behind blue eyes and faltered. She couldn't do this to Brittany. She couldn't do this to Quinn. Fuck. She couldn't do this to herself.

So she lowered her head and sat up, swinging her legs over the bed and copying Brittany's position. Tentatively, she picked up her phone, took one long glance at the picture of her and Quinn kissing, before pressing the green button and raising it to her ear.

"Hey, Q."

A muffle and a few whispers came from the other end of the phone, "Oh, uh, hey Santana."

Santana chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah babe, of course."

The Latina narrowed her eyes and listened carefully. She could've sworn she heard another voice in the background, but shook it off as she realised_her_ being suspicious was just a bit hypocritical, "Oh alright, so uh, what did you need?"

"Are _you_ okay Santana?" Quinn replied as Santana's heart stopped beating, "Your voice sounds kind of… Off."

She gulped loudly and turned to look at Brittany, who was still in the same position. Fear and panic mixed in her bloodstream and it shot through her body, quickening her heartbeat.

"Yeah, I'm fine Q. Just tired. It is," She paused and brought the phone away from her ear as she glanced at the time, "…5am after all. Jheeze Q, why you awake at this ungodly hour anyway?"

Santana tapped her foot against the floor impatiently as she awaited an answer. Her eyes roamed around the room and a chill ran up her spine, and she suddenly noticed her topless chest. Within a second she'd practically lunged across the room, feeling increasingly embarrassed and managed to pull her head through the head hole. It was only then that she realised during the twenty or so seconds it'd taken her to do all this, Quinn still hadn't replied.

Once again, she took the phone away from her ear and clicked, making sure her girlfriend was still on the line, "Uh, Q? You still there?"

Dark chocolate eyes fixated on the toned, pale back which still remained uncovered and it only aided her by bringing back memories of their previous actions. Her throat thickened and she swallowed against it harshly, feeling the remaining arousal burn in the pit of her stomach as her eyes squeezed shut. The tension was slowly building up and she dreaded the end of this conversation for all the wrong reasons. Being, not the fact she wanted to talk to her girlfriend, but for the fact she'd have to face Brittany and the awkward talk about what the hell happened between them minutes before.

_Fuck, when did life get so damn complicated?_

"Yeah. Sorry, I just, uhm, couldn't sleep." Quinn responded, interrupting the Latina's thoughts.

The uncertainty and blatant lie lacing the hazel eyed blonde's toned didn't go a miss by Santana. Her eyebrows furrowed suspiciously, and she crossed one arm as she headed for the bathroom, not being able to take the sight of Brittany, a) half naked and b) obviously hurt, anymore. It sucked, like majorly sucked. All she wanted to do was go back in time at least half an hour and turn her phone off so her and Britt-

_No, fuck. You've got a girlfriend._

"Oh, right. Are you sure that's it?" Santana asked warily, taking a quick once over of herself in the mirror.

Her lips were swollen and puffy, and her eyes were dark with arousal. But something was off, and she noticed the sadness behind them, which equally matched a certain pair of sapphire ones. Dark, raven hair was hanging wildly around her shoulders and sported the look she could only describe as 'sex-hair', despite the actual lack of sex during the past few minutes.

"Yep. So how are you anyway? How's B?"

Guilt smacked her straight across the cheek and she inwardly flinched, "She's good. Her dad's fine too. Apparently they hadn't even left."

"Oh that's good. So, um, where are you? Are you in Washington?"

Santana suddenly remembered that it only took about two hours for them to get here. Which, technically, meant they could leave now, and be home before sunrise. To the Latina, that was a good and a bad thing. Well, if she were honest it was just a bad thing, but she had to consider the good factor as it consisted mostly of the girl down the phone.

"No, we're only like a few hours away because we couldn't cross a bridge because of the damn storm."

A few seconds of silence passed and Santana realised her and Brittany's_ sleepover_ had basically just been revealed.

"Oh, but you said you were sleeping?" Quinn pushed on, suspicion clear in her voice.

Santana cleared her throat and kicked herself inwardly. _That's not going to make her even more suspicious. Well done._ She thought as she entered the bedroom and found Brittany lying, fully clothed, on the bed staring up at the ceiling.

Steel blue and dark brown locked and Santana could see the fear present in the blonde's eyes. "Yeah, we rented a room out at the motel."

"Oh, right. So you're with Britt now?"

She nodded and bit her bottom lip. It only took a few seconds and a raised eyebrow from Brittany to realise Quinn couldn't see her, "Yeah."

"At a motel?"

Santana quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah…"

"How many beds are there? Is there a double or two singles?"

"A double, it's all they had." Santana replied truthfully.

There was no point in lying to Quinn, she had no reason to feel guilty, well she did, but telling her girlfriend that they were sharing a double bed didn't immediately mean they were going to get it on. Even though they did, it didn't mean it was already written in the books that they would've as soon as they climbed into bed together.

_Fuck complications._

"And you couldn't sleep on the floor?"

Santana feigned a smile, and Brittany furrowed her brows in response, "Yeah, well I mean I suggested that, but it was pretty uncomfortable so Britt suggested I sleep on the bed with her."

Quinn didn't answer, and Santana immediately started to panic. She mentally back-tracked her words, searching any faults and making sure she hadn't revealed anything. Brittany continued to stare at her expectantly, and the brunette felt her heart contract as she saw the hurt again.

_This isn't fucking fair._

_It's your fault._

Santana didn't even try and justify her actions, because ultimately she knew she was in the wrong. _She_ was the one who cheated;_ she_ kissed Brittany, not the other way around. And right then, the Latina decided if their intimate moment ever came out, she'd defend Brittany and make sure she was to blame. Because it was her, she'd fucked up the situation and that was the bottom line. Plus, deep inside she knew she was going to defend Brittany, no matter what.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" Quinn questioned in a soft voice.

The brunette moved towards the foot of the bed and perched on the edge carefully, quivering slightly, "Okay…"

"You two are just friends, right?"

The Latina froze and she saw the panic reflected in Brittany's eyes in reaction to her expression. She gulped, and for a few seconds the world slowed down, excruciatingly painfully. Her mind raced and she quickly mapped out the pros and cons of lying to her girlfriend. If she admitted they were just friends, she would've just potentially fucked up everything and hurt not only Brittany, but herself. But Quinn was her girlfriend, she had an obligation to make sure she was happy no matter what, yeah okay, it did involve lying, and that's not what a relationship should be built upon. But hurting Quinn that way… It just didn't seem possible.

Plus if she said they weren't just friends, she would've hurt Quinn, broken up with her and put Brittany on the spot all because of one word. If she said no, and it turned out Brittany didn't _actually_ feel that way about her, and the kissing was just to pass the time, then she would be single, heartbroken and known as a complete ass by everyone at school because she cheated on her girlfriend, who was one of the most popular girls at school, if not _the _most popular.

But that also brought up the decision of whether Santana was questioning her feelings towards the blue eyed blonde. Did she really like Brittany enough to hurt someone else?

_Yes._

But Brittany had never been straight forward with her feelings, she always hid them like she was trying to protect herself. What if it really had_ just_ been kissing, what if the feelings Santana was harbouring for her weren't returned? Shit, what if she'd just cheated on her girlfriend, who she undoubtedly did like, for someone who didn't feel the same way.

_Fuck._

No conclusion came to mind. But she knew she didn't want to hurt Brittany, just like she knew she didn't want to hurt Quinn. Everything was just getting so complicated. It shouldn't have been that hard. Santana was respectable, and as far as she knew, her and Brittany _were_ just friends, who happened to kiss. But as much as she wanted to justify her decision, and previous actions, she couldn't. She knew she was being a horrible person, and she knew she was going to regret saying what she was about too. But it was the right thing to do, well, possibly.

So she inhaled deeply and stared Brittany straight in the eye, pasting the best apologetic expression across her face as she spoke.

"Yeah, we're just friends."

And there it was. The expression she _really _didn't want to see was now staring her straight in the face. It was worse than she expected, _so_ much worse. Brittany's lower lip quivered and her crystal blue orbs turned glassy as unshed tears brimmed beneath them. What felt like a ton guilt fell against her chest, crushing her heart and soul simultaneously. Brittany stood up, and headed out the door before Santana could even blink, slamming it loudly on exit.

"You would tell me, right? I mean, you'd tell me if anything happened between you and her, or anyone else for that matter? Even if it was like, an accident, you'd tell me, right?" Quinn asked.

Suspicion struck Santana, and she couldn't push the feeling that there was something hiding behind the head cheerleader's words. But then again, _hypocrite_ screamed inside her mind and she pushed it away reluctantly. "Yeah Q, I would."

"Okay," Santana could hear something which she could only decipher to be Quinn not exactly being convinced, but she stayed silent, "Well um, I gotta go San. Drop round mine later yeah babe?"

She cringed at the term of endearment, "Yeah sure."

"Love you."

"Love you too." Santana responded with a heavy heart. She clenched her free hand into a fist and tried to supress the ever growing guilt building in the pit of her stomach.

A beep greeted the brunette from the other end of the phone, and Santana clicked the red button before chucking the phone carelessly across the room where it landed with a thud. Her legs moved towards the door, and she threw it open before stepping out into the damp, cold air. A shudder ran down her spine and she hugged herself as she squinted against the still dark sky, trying to spot the blonde.

After a few minutes of looking around the lot, and coming up with nothing, Santana sighed and leaned back until her back pressed against the wall behind her. The back of her head connected harshly with the concrete, and she did nothing but welcome the pain as she knew she deserved it.

_What the hell am I supposed to do? What the hell am I doing?_

It was like Sophie's choice. Well, a less extreme version of that but yeah. She knew she liked being with Quinn, loved her possibly, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't _in_ love with her girlfriend. It seemed impossible. Being in love with Quinn just seemed _wrong_ in most aspects. She couldn't see herself with standing next to the hazel eyed blonde when all her dreams come true. She knew that was extreme, but to her that was mostly a test. If Santana imagined herself, surrounded by everyone she loved, having everything she ever wished for right in front of her, with the one person beside her, it wasn't Quinn. Not once, had it _ever_ been Quinn. And that was enough to convince herself of her decision.

She was going to break up with Quinn. And as much as she tried to tell herself different, Brittany was the main factor for it. Because she, undeniably, wanted Brittany.

The brunette slid her arms down and braced herself against the wall. With one heavy sigh, she pushed off the side of the building and slid back into her motel room. The need to find Brittany was burning through her muscles, but she knew that if she was the blonde, and if she'd been in Brittany's shoes, she really _wouldn't_ want to be around Santana right now. So instead, she resided by slouching down on the sofa and throwing her jacket over her.

Within a few seconds, and with a few escaped tears, she had fallen into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>Santana awoke to the sound of the front door closing, and she the back of her hands against her face, trying to rub off the just-woke-up look. The after effects of sleep still tugged at her body, and she restrained the urge to lie back down and close her eyes once more.<p>

Brittany was pacing across the room, hands clasped behind her back with a more than serious expression pasting her face. Fear immediately slapped Santana and suddenly she was fully awake, standing up with one strap of her tank top hanging off her shoulder.

_Shit, did Brittany tell Quinn?_

"Britt? What's wrong?" She asked with sincere worry.

The blonde tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and shot a look at the Latina before returning to her intense pacing. Santana stared her quizzically, wondering what the hell was going on. She didn't get the nervous emotion radiating off the dancer as she'd expected, instead she got the infuriated one. Confused, she grabbed Brittany's wrist and involuntarily ground the dancer to a halt.

"Stop," Santana demanded, "And tell me what the hell is going on?"

Steel blue eyes zoomed onto their touching skin, and before Santana could grasp tighter, Brittany had whipped her arm away harshly.

"Is this to do with last night?" The Latina asked carefully. She almost slapped herself as it was _so_ obviously about what'd happened, but not wanting to sound to full of herself, she felt the need to confirm it.

She watched the confirmation grace Brittany's face, and she shuffled her weight onto her other leg, rubbing her palm up and down her bare arm nervously. The words and upcoming smile brimmed beneath her features as she was about to tell the dancer she wanted _her_, not Quinn, not anyone else, she wanted Brittany.

So with a deep sigh, she locked gazes with the taller girl and bit her bottom lip, "Britt, I wa-"

"_Itwasamistake."_ Brittany interrupted, her words coming out so fast Santana wasn't sure she heard them correctly.

Santana had heard those words before. After their first kiss in the library the day Jacob Ben Israel entered the school with a gun. She said exactly the same thing.

"A mistake?"

The blonde straightened up and crossed her arms, "Last night. It shouldn't have happened."

A strange sensation ran through Santana's chest and she couldn't prevent it as she tightened her grip on her arm. She knew she was probably going to leave marks, but the weird ache was so intense she felt like she was about to keel over due to it.

"Are you serious?"

Brittany gulped, blinked slowly and looked Santana dead in the eye, "It was a mistake. You have Quinn. And we're just friends. Nothing more."

Her own words burned through her veins and she felt defeat sink into her body. For a second, she felt anger as it dawned on her the only reason she was actually going to break up with Quinn, was because she was hoping Brittany felt the same as she did. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew the reason for wanting to break up with her girlfriend was undeniably to do with said girlfriend's best friend.

"Just friends." Santana repeated in monotone.

The dancer nodded, "We were both in an unfamiliar situation, and things just got the better of us. So yes, just friends."

Santana wanted to deny everything. She wanted to tell Brittany she was going to break up with Quinn; and that there were feelings behind her actions that she wanted to act on. But her conversation with her girlfriend wasn't exactly the best proof of that. Chocolate flickered between cobalt, and she inhaled deeply, feeling defeat, regret, hurt, everything negative flush through her body. And she clenched her jaw as rejection joined those damn feelings.

"Is that really what you want? For us to be, just friends?"

Denial flashed across steel blue orbs, "Yes."

The Latina knew Brittany was lying, and she _so_ badly wanted to bring her up on it. But there was something that scared her, something that she didn't know about and so she swallowed against a thickened throat and nodded, "As you wish."

Brittany moved across the room and grabbed her duffel bag and swinging it over her shoulder. She headed for the door, clicked on the handle before pausing and throwing Santana a quick, yet emotionally deep look, "Let's get going. Quinn's waiting for us."

Before she could even answer, and announce her hidden feelings, the blonde had disappeared out the door, leaving Santana all alone in the motel room with unspoken words and a heavy, guilt-stricken heart.

_Fuck_.

* * *

><p>Two hours and a quick, yet incredibly awkward breakfast stop later, they pulled up outside Brittany's house. Quinn was perched on the front step, leaning one arm on her knee as she tapped away furiously on her phone. When the Latina killed the engine, the hazel eyed blonde glanced up and immediately brightened up at the sight of her girlfriend and best friend.<p>

_Thank you God, just add to the guilt why don't you._

Brittany was out the car before Santana could say anything and she watched as the dancer flew straight into Quinn's embrace. She remained in the car for a few seconds, making sure she was actually strong enough to approach Quinn and swiftly slid out the car. She grabbed the two duffel bags from the boot of the car and shut it harder than necessary before walking over to the two blondes who were still wrapped up in a tight hug.

"I'm so happy your dad's alright Britt, I've missed you." Quinn said sincerely, giving Brittany a quick squeeze as she locked eyes with Santana.

"I've missed you too." Brittany replied sadly, her eyes searching for deep chocolate ones.

She could feel two sets of eyes on her, and she couldn't even decide which one to look back at, so she focused on her black Chucks as the scuffed along the gravel beneath them. She sighed and almost laughed at the irony of the situation as she thought over it.

"Hey girlfriend." Quinn called to Santana as she released Brittany from the hug.

Santana glanced up, "Hey Q."

The shorter of the blondes sauntered over to the Latina and wrapped her arms loosely around her neck, pulling their bodies close, and their faces inches apart. Santana almost winced at the unfamiliar scent covering her girlfriend, but she brushed it off quickly.

"I've may have missed you too." The hazel eyed blonde whispered as she closed the gap and pressed her lips to Santana's slowly.

She supressed the urge to flinch away or to compare the kiss, and instead let her body to the talking. Quinn seemed more eager than usual and the Latina pulled away as she felt a tongue flick against her bottom lip, after all, she was doing this with the _other blonde_ less than four hours ago. Her eyes immediately landed on Brittany, and she caught the pained expression as it flashed across her face.

"Ditto." Santana responded unconvincingly.

Quinn gave her a suspicious look, but then shook it off and grinned largely. "So, I think your dad being safe means a celebration!"

_Oh infierno de mierda. (Oh fucking hell.)_

"Hudson's having a party at his tonight, are my two best girls up for it?"

Mocha orbs flickered to cerulean ones that refused to look back at her. She knew what a party meant. A party meant alcohol, alcohol meant getting drunk, and teenagers drunk meant uncontrollable hormones, including a now single Brittany. All of those factors added together meant there could be an incredibly jealous Santana, standing next to her girlfriend. Life was just getting easier and easier.

"I could definitely do with a drink after last night."

Santana snapped her head up, hearing the double meaning behind Brittany's words and panicking momentarily. It didn't seem to faze Quinn, as the shorter blonde just cocked her head to the side and smiled almost smugly, and with a quick clap of the hands turned to the Latina.

"Great. So what about you babe?" Quinn raised both eyebrows hopefully.

The brunette weighed out the options. If she said yes, then she might possibly see Brittany all over some fucking jock, his grubby hands rubbing messily across her toned body and not taking time to admire her perfection. And considering their intimate encounter the previous night, Santana wasn't entirely sure she could handle seeing that. It was so cliché, and so Twilight-like, but she knew what Edward had meant when he said Bella was a drug to him. Once you had a taste of the girl, it was hard to stay away. And watching someone underappreciate it was frankly, pretty damn offensive. Plus the whole secretly harboured feelings for the tall blonde was a pretty big factor.

But if she said no, then Quinn would get suspicious. Brittany might act strangely and say _you're making it obvious_ etc. Which could possibly but a bigger divide between the mechanic and dancer, and she sure as hell knew she didn't want that. And Quinn would press Santana, push every available button to try and get the _real_ reason why she wasn't going, since apparently being _tired_ wasn't a big enough of an excuse to miss a party as she'd found out from Azimio's party a few weeks back. If the whole her and Brittany making out fiasco came out, then it would ruin both of them. Not that she cared much for herself, but the thought of the dancer being hated pained her more than she thought was possible.

So with intense hatred for her decision, so feigned a smile at her girlfriend and nodded. "Sure Q. Sounds like fun."

Quinn snaked her arm around Santana's waist and looked to Brittany with a slightly off smile. "So, what did you two get up to last night?"

Both of their faces fell and Santana gulped audibly.

_Oh shit. _

The party was definitely going to be interesting.

* * *

><p>Santana arrived home a little after eight in the morning. Brittany had left shortly after their brief talk of what'd happened last night, without the whole making out part included – leaving Quinn and Santana alone. The blonde for all intense and purposes leapt on the brunette, smothering her with sloppy kisses that seemed a little too eager. But she'd just put it down to being missed, or jealous, or both. It's not like Quinn didn't have reason to be.<p>

She slid the key in the lock, and carefully twisted it open, making sure she didn't wake her father in the midst. However apparently she hadn't been as stealthy as she'd hoped as the door was yanked open from the other side, leaving her to tumble in. Santana recovered herself by the time she reached the stairs, and turned to see her father with crossed arms, furrowed brows and looking _incredibly_ pissed off.

"Mija! Where have you been! He estado muy preocupada _(I have been very concerned!)_!"

Santana grimaced and glanced up, she really didn't need this shit. "The storm hit the east coast and Brittany's dad could've died actually, so if you don't fucking mind I went down there to make sure of it. Sorry if calling you wasn't exactly top of my list."

Her father's half-disappointed, half-pissed off expression dropped and his shoulders sagged. Santana rolled her eyes and brushed passed him into the kitchen. Her original plan was to go and see Luis, but knowing her little brother, well step-brother, or whatever, he'd be fast asleep tucked up with his little plush dragon.

"Santana," Mario said softly, "I was worried sick."

She didn't reply.

"You could've at least told me where you were. Your papi needs to know." He continued with disdain dripping off his words.

Something ignited inside of Santana. She didn't know what it was but it just caused an eruption in the pit of her stomach and she gripped her duffel bag harder and swung it behind her shoulder before throwing it far into the living where it landed with a heavy crash. Mario flinched and widened his eyes comically.

"You have _no_ right to tell me what to do. You've fed me a web of lies and then you're disappointed in _me?_" She pointed to her chest and then thrust her finger out towards the older Latino. "You're fucking ridiculous. If I feel like travelling to New York or doing a dance on Miami beach, then I can and I don't have to tell you where I am or what I'm doing. I'm 18. You have no jurisdiction over me and if it wasn't for mami, then I'd be out of this shit hole and I could've stayed in fucking New River where I was fucking happy."

Mario's face fell. Santana knew she'd gone too far. Sure what she'd said wasn't exactly offensive, but going by his face, it'd hurt. Her fists clenched and he shook his head, snarling his lip in _shame?_

"Sanny?"

Santana spun around and saw her brother standing the middle of the living room, wearing a little dragon printed pyjama one suit, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. All the anger disappeared and she ran over to him, crouching down to his level and hugging him. When she turned around, Mario hadn't moved an inch, and his back was facing her and her brother.

"I'm here hermanito_ (brother)_." She whispered into his ear as she cradled his tiny form.

Luis pulled back and pouted, "Why were you shouting at papi?" He asked groggily.

It reminded Santana of her mother. His large, dark brown eyes with a little tinge of green sparkled and she clenched her jaw. She didn't have a family. Her mother had died, her father turned out to be fake, and it all came crashing down on her. Except there was one concrete support. Even if it did come in the shape and size of a six year old wearing cute little pyjamas. But still, he was there.

Santana turned to her father, who still had his back facing her and Luis. She knew she should apologise. Despite her speaking the truth, he didn't deserve it. It wasn't his fault her mother had run off and slept with another man, and had a child out of wedlock. It wasn't his fault Benzino virtually abandoned Santana and her mother, because Mario had been there to pick up the pieces. He'd been the one that supported her. He'd been the one to teach her how to walk and was there for her first words. It didn't matter that biologically, Benzino was her father because emotionally, Mario had been and always would be. And if he'd created half of Luis, he couldn't be all that bad.

The brunette turned back to her brother and ruffled his messy dark brown hair. "I wasn't Luis. We were just talking."

Luis frowned and pouted further, "Well you were loud. No me gusta."

Santana grinned and she kissed him quickly on the forehead, "Lo siento, hermanito. _(I'm sorry, brother)_ Now go back to bed baby."

The six year old continued to pout but then Santana pulled a funny face and started giggling. After returning him to the floor, she ushered him towards the stairs and after a few pads of his tiny feet told, she heard him close his bedroom door and then jump into his bed. Santana felt the tension set in and took in a deep breath before slowly walking back towards the kitchen.

"Papi…"

Mario flinched visibly and Santana felt the regret hit her. She took a tentative step forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, pushing down lightly to spin him around. He reluctantly did so, and didn't even meet her searching orbs.

"Papi, lo siento. I've been going through a bad patch and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." She whispered softly.

Her father looked up through glassy eyes, and took a few seconds to consider her words before engulfing Santana in a bone-crushing hug.

"Whoah, papi. Calm down." She said breathlessly, "Can't breathe."

Mario released her and pushed her away by gripping her biceps. She stood still for a second whilst he looked at her with utter adoration. Even though technically he wasn't her father, and she wasn't his daughter, that look was more parental than any she'd seen in a while. And he would always be the closest thing Santana had to a father, and she felt no hate or regret for that.

After a minute or so, Mario busied himself in the living room, probably sorting out the broken porcelain plate that she'd thrown her bag at, which she had yet to apologise for – and Santana opened the fridge, examining the contents. She saw that there was barely anything in there, and so she mentally noted to grab some groceries later.

_Oh shit, the party._

"Uh, papi?" Santana called from the kitchen, grabbing a bowl out of the top cupboard, "There's a party tonight."

Mario walked back into the kitchen with a small plastic bag that clinked with every one of his steps, "A party?"

She nodded and searched through the cupboards on tip toes for Lucky Charms. "Yeah, Finn Hudson's party. It's only a block or two down."

Her father dumped the broken plate in the bin. "Ah, Carole's boy. Didn't know you were friends with him."

"I'm not. But Quinn is."

Mario arched an eyebrow as he leant against the counter, "Quinn?"

"My girlfriend…" Santana trailed off, taking a spoon out the drawer and dunking into her dry cereal.

"Oh, bastante blonde, _(pretty blonde)_ si?"

"Si papi. _(Yes papi)_"

The older Latino smiled sheepishly, "Is your friend Brittany going?"

Santana froze. Her hand was hanging mid-air about two inches away from a Lucky Charm marshmallow she'd been picking out. She felt her whole body stand rigid and cleared her throat. "Uh, how do you know Britt?"

She felt her father move across the kitchen behind her, and take refuge on one of the kitchen island stools. "I just do mija."

"You know, she's a great niña _(girl)_, Santana."

Panic set in, of course she knew Quinn was great. It was her girlfriend after all. "Uh, I know."

"I'm just saying mija, she really likes you. When you were in the hospital she was there with you every day. It's obvious how much she feels for you."

"I know papi. I really like her too."

Mario pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before returning to his stool, "Have you told her that?"

_Wait what? Who the hell is he talking about?_

"Que? _(What?)_" She shoots him a half-confused, half-quizzical expression, "Papi, who are you talking about? Quinn or Britt?"

He raised both his eyebrows and pursed his lips, "Depends on who _you're_ talking about mija."

There was another flash of panic that fluttered through her body, and she gripped the edge of the counter tighter than necessary. Her skin was rejecting the intense pressure as she glanced down to see her knuckles practically poking out of it.

_What the fuc-_

"Santana, don't underestimate the power of Mario Lopez. This man sees and knows all. Latino God in human form." He said with a chuckle lacing his tone.

Santana forced out a giggle, and tried to shake off the obvious panic pasting across her expression as she pushed away from the counter and headed for the fridge in the corner of the kitchen.

"Anyway," She muttered, "If it's cool with you I'll go along for a bit. But I'll be back before two."

The sound of birds chirping echoed through the kitchen and the brunette opened the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk and sniffing it.

"Two?" Mario said after a long silence. "And since when do you ever ask for permission?"

The smile on Santana's faced widened and she spun on her heels, kicking the door shut with her foot as she returned to her cereal bowl with the milk, "Parental permission."

Mario grinned largely and leaned pushed off the stool before heading towards Santana and leaning on the counter next to her. "You can go."

"Really?"

"Si mija."

Santana slid the milk further onto the countertop and clutched her bowl, scooping in a large mouthful. She walked towards the living room and paused at the door, throwing her father a look over her shoulder, "Papi? I love you."

Mario grinned and nodded, "Yo también te quiero mija. _(I love you too)_"

Another step forward and Santana was paused by her father's voice again, "Oh and mija? Who were you talking about? Just out of interest?"

The immediate response was to say Quinn, because technically, it was the right answer. But it didn't seem like it. It seemed like a robotic, automatic response that'd been encoded into her after the last few months and something deep inside her chest stopped the words as they bubbled up the back of her throat.

"I don't know papi." Santana admitted with defeat. She didn't want to lie anymore, the feeling was dragging her down and she was just so damn confused.

Mario stood from the stool and approached Santana, poking his finger to the left of her chest. "Listen to your heart. Not your head mija. You'll find the right answer."

And then he left.

* * *

><p>The time rolled by relatively quickly, and before Santana knew it her and Quinn were standing outside Finn Hudson's house, just on the corner of Prosperous Avenue. Since apparently every relatively popular kid that attends McKinley seems to be stupidly rich and live on the same damn street. Santana really couldn't be bothered for the party, she was emotionally and physically spent and the idea of spending hours around people she didn't <em>really <em>like all that much wasn't her idea of fun.

But she went anyway. His house was only about a five or ten minute walk away from Quinn's, so they decided to walk there. They were aiming to arrive a little after nine, since that was fashionably late for a party that started at seven, and Santana hadn't even bothered to fight it. But by the time Quinn had gone through her closet about sixteen times before she picked out the cute little black lacey number she found within the first five minutes, they arrived at about nine thirty. She'd never been one for parties and it didn't seem like that was going to change anytime soon.

So there she was, walking up Prosperous Avenue, hand in hand with Quinn. The guilt had continued to burn Santana ever since she'd spoken to her father. She glanced down to her and Quinn's intertwined fingers and examined them. Her mind nodded in approval, but something deep inside her chest tugged and she couldn't restrain the pained expression from pasting itself across her face.

_Listen to your heart, not your head mija._

She wasn't having it. She couldn't. Brittany didn't want her. Brittany rejected her and said the kiss, well kiss_es_, plural, were mistakes. So Santana put on a happy face, and tried not to flinch every time their skin touched, because ultimately, Quinn was her girlfriend, and she did like her.

_Is that your heart or your head saying that?_

"Babe?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow and halting Santana to a stop.

_Shit._ "Yeah?"

The blonde bit her lower lip, and swallowed audibly. Panic set in and Santana could feel her heart beating rapidly. "I…"

_Oh shit. Who said something? Does she know?_

"I…"

_Just spit it out god damn it. Oh fuck. _

Hazel orbs flickered around the desolate streets nervously.

"I love you."

_What?_

All the blood drained out her face. _Fuck._ It definitely hadn't been what Santana had been expecting. Her mouth dropped open into a silent 'oh' and she stared incredulously at her girlfriend. It's not like they hadn't said _love you_ before. But there was something about adding the _I _at the beginning, that just made everything so much more official. Saying _love you_ was completely different from saying _I love you_ - because it was like saying _I'm in love with you_ but in a shortened form. And that freaked Santana out. Did she love Quinn? Was she _in_ love with Quinn?

_No_.

Santana just needed time. She could fall in love with Quinn. Quinn was like mostly perfect, and Santana did like her a lot – plus they had a hell of a lot of chemistry, and the blonde had been there for her. Her mind overruled her heart, and she felt the bitterness of the lie stain the back of her tongue, as it left her mouth.

"I love you too."

Quinn grinned largely and leant towards Santana's body, puckering her lips for a kiss. As always, her body took control and she pressed her lips to the blonde's, feeling the softness mould around her full lips and the tangy taste flow into her mouth. An itch formed on her temple and she cracked open an eye to see Brittany stumbling drunkenly, down the stoop.

Without a top on.

In just a hot pink lacy bra.

_Oh fuck._

Suddenly all her attention focused on the dancer and she didn't even realise she'd stopped kissing Quinn. A quick prod to her shoulder knocked her out of her stupor and she glanced back to quizzical hazel orbs with her lips still pouted.

"Babe?"

A flash of panic shot through her, and her eyes flicked over to Brittany who was lying on the centre of the front law, limbs sprawled out in a star position. "Uh, yeah?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes and turned her head slightly. Santana panicked and grabbed her girlfriend's head, twisting it back around and crashing their lips together so hard she was pretty sure they would bruise. The blonde didn't seem to question it and ran her tongue along the bottom of Santana's lip, requesting entrance which sent a shot of guilt panging through her body. She obliged, realising it would've been suspicious otherwise and allowed their tongues to slide and massage over each other. It felt so wrong. Especially as she knew Brittany was merely metres away. But it was the right thing to do.

Santana pulled away first, feigning the need for oxygen and rested her forehead against Quinn's, quickly doing a once over on the garden to search for Brittany. Who'd disappeared.

"Sorry," Santana uttered, "Just had an urge."

Hazel eyes darkened with lust and a smirk graced the blonde's face, "You _really_ don't have to apologise for doing that."

_Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt._

Santana smiled and nodded. Quinn's hand found hers, and laced their fingers together as she was pulled down the pit path towards the house. Her eyes immediately roamed for Brittany, trying to find anywhere that she could've gone, but she came up with nothing.

_Did she see? Fuck._

_Like it matters. She's not your girlfriend._

They entered the house, stepping over a passed out Junior who'd curled up on the entrance mat just outside the front door and were immediately greeted with a houseful of drunken teenagers. Quinn's face seemed to light up, and Santana really did question why these damn parties were so fun. Yeah sure drinking was like a part of teenage life, but unless there was a dire need for it, it was pretty damn pointless and just another way to lower people's inhibitions and wake up, completely stark naked next to a guy they didn't even know the name of.

"Come on." Quinn whispered, pressing a kiss to Santana's cheek and leading them through the crowd.

Somewhere in the crowd, their hands disconnected and the Latina headed off in a different direction. She found a table full of a variety of bottles and grabbed the nearest one containing with clear liquid. Orange juice was added after she filled her cup halfway with the liquid, assuming it was vodka and headed towards the sofa. A couple were lounging on it, basically dry-humping and Santana scowled at them, causing them to jump up and scurry off, leaving her alone. She craned her neck, trying to find the blonde head of hair she was looking for but once again came up with nothing. She told herself the blonde she was looking for was Quinn, but her heart was telling her something different.

The realisation hit her harder than a train on a track, and the sip of her drink she'd just taken was now halfway across the room, landing on a few dancing bodies. They were too immersed in their dancing to even feel the liquid land on their clothing, but Santana wouldn't have even cared if they did. The cup slipped from her hand, landing on the floor and spilling the contents onto the hardwood floor. It wasn't like she didn't know it deep inside, because if she was truly honest, it was always there in the darkest crevices of her heart. But finally admitting to herself, finally saying that she wasn't in love with Quinn and didn't want her, hit her harder than expected.

_You have to do it soon. You can't lead her on._

"I have to do it." Santana whispered to herself.

Without a second thought, she pushed up from the sofa and barged her way through the crowd. When she reached the kitchen she stopped in her tracks and her face fell. The blood drained out of her being and she felt her skin pale. Santana almost couldn't believe what she was seeing and her fists clenched.

"What the fuck?"

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><p><strong>Thank you guys. Just click the little button down there and leave a few words please! It'll be greatly appreciated!<strong>


	14. Truth Or Dare

**Just a quick note for the anon's who reviewed my last review… **

**Anon number one: **_**I don't know why you make Santana so insistent in staying with Quinn. Any normal teenager would have dumped her ten chapters ago. It's getting pretty tiring; it might be wise to hook Brittana up soon.**_

**Your response:**** First of all, Santana hasn't ever been a normal teenager. I'm not offending her and saying she's abnormal, so before you get all up in my grill I just wanted to clarify. She's staying with Quinn because she likes Quinn, and can't make her mind up between the two – sorry if I haven't made that clear, but she's indecisive, which may I add, most teenagers are.**

**I apologise that you think it's getting tiring, but if you're not enjoying this fic then please, don't hesitate to stop reading. I'm writing this how I want too, and if you don't appreciate my updates, then by all means, go and read someone else's story. Thank you anyway for taking your time to review.**

**Anon number two: **_**I agree with the other reviewer, enough of this quinntana BS! I might stop reading**_

**Your response:**** Thank you for taking your time to review, and I understand you're disappointed with Quinntana, and that you might stop reading but this is **_**my**_** fic, and I'm going to write it how **_**I**_** want too. I'm playing it out how I want too, and I've said from the start this is a Brittana endgame fic, and so it will be. **

**To both Anon's:**** if you stop reading it, then I apologise and it's a big shame, but I'm not going to change how I'm writing just because two anon's (oh by the way, anon, really? Are you in second grade?) don't like it. There's plenty of other fics that you may prefer so please go read them. But I appreciate you taking your time to review, so thank you anyway.**

**Anyway! Moving on to a cheerier note! Thank you everyone who took their time to review! I love you guys and I'm going to bang out updates more regularly (hopefully!)**

**Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy! Love you all!**

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>R (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate (unfortunately)

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><p>"<em>For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else."<em>_**  
><strong>_- Ralph Waldo Emerson

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Fourteen**

_Without a second thought, Santana pushed up from the sofa and barged her way through the crowd. When she reached the kitchen she stopped in her tracks, and her face fell. The blood drained out of her being and she felt her skin pale. She almost couldn't believe what she was seeing, and her fists clenched._

"_What the fuck?"_

"Baaabyyy!" Quinn screamed, pushing away a large jock and stumbling off the table, over to Santana.

Santana stood there, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing. Her fists were clenched so tightly she could almost feel the blood tickling down her palm. She'd just walked in on a blonde jock doing body shots off girlfriend, and taking the lime from her mouth with a quick peck after.

But that wasn't the reason for her quickened heartbeat.

Brittany was perched on the counter, heels banging against the cabinet below, laughing uncontrollably and another jock standing between her legs, rubbing his palms up and down her bare thighs.

"What the fuck?" Santana repeated with aggression.

Everyone's heads snapped up in sync, and Santana's eyes widened comically. What the hell was she supposed to say? She couldn't care less that her girlfriend was getting half-dry humped by a jock, she couldn't care that Puck stood there doing absolutely fuck all, despite her thinking due to the shooting they'd someone managed to sort things out. All she cared about was the fact that Brittany was stood there with some guy feeling her up. That wasn't the Brittany Santana knew. What the hell was the she doing?

"Uh, San?"

Santana whipped her head round and glanced down to the body in front of her. It took about three seconds for her to realise that standing in front of her was her best friend.

"Rachel?" She said in disbelief, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Noah ordered some pizzas from Bennie's, and I had my shift there tonight, so I delivered them. But then Bennie called me up and let me off for the night," The shorter girl shuffled nervously, "And Puck said I should stay here for a bit."

Suspicion burned through Santana's veins. Since when was Puck ever nice to anyone? Let alone Berry?

"Right," Santana glanced over the girl's shoulder and locked eyes with Brittany, suddenly feeling like she was under an examination, "Since when are you and Puck friends?"

Rachel looked around, and gulped visibly, "I tutor him Santana. We've become friends through that."

Quinn had got up from the table by this point, and was suddenly over by a jock, giggling and slapping him on the arm flirtatiously. But Santana didn't really focus on that as Brittany was currently being lead outside, still just wearing tiny black short shorts and still bloody topless.

When she turned her attention back to her best friend, she realised Rachel had actually been talking to her the entire time, and she tuned in, just in time to catch the end of the girl's sentence.

"…But honestly, he's nice so I hope you don't have any doubts."

Santana waved her hand carelessly in front of the small brunette, sure it was rude but she didn't exactly care at that point, "Yeah, just give me two seconds Rach."

She brushed past her best friend, completely focused on the door Brittany had left seconds ago. She was about two steps and a click of the handle away when something tugged on her wrist, and ground her to an involuntary halt. Santana spun on her heels, whipping her head round so fast it created a satisfying clicking sound and she looked deep into hazel eyes. But not the hazel eyes she was expecting.

"Puck." Santana deadpanned, darting her eyes down to their connected limbs. "Can I help you?"

"Are you," He coughed and retracted his hand, letting Santana's fall down by her side, "Are you going to the Chang's after the football match Saturday?"

Santana glanced over both shoulders, checking to make sure he was actually talking to her. When there was no-one there she looked back at him sceptically and raised an eyebrow, "I haven't heard about it."

"Well now you have." Puck relaxed and leaned against the counter, "It's an open invite thing, so maybe you should come along. All the parents of the squad are going to be there, and the majority of the Senior's. It's kind of Mike's excuse to have a party."

She really didn't know what the hell was going on. Her eyes darted between each of his, and saw nothing but sincerity. He was genuinely telling her she should come along. Confusion ran throughout her being.

"Not planning to chuck me in some mud then?" She ducked as a red cup flew past her head, and Puck sent the throwers a glare. They immediately backed down and this just caused more suspicion, and doubled the confusion.

_Seriously? He's protecting me now?_

Puck shook his head, "No. But I would like to apologise for that."

_Okay now this is just weird. _Santana didn't even bother to reply with words, she just shot him a weak smile and gave a quick nod.

A few seconds passed and her brother still hadn't moved. It caused her to feel slightly self-conscious, and she subtly looked around, making sure she wasn't about to step in something or about to be bagged by a couple of Jock's and thrown into the back of a van. That would just make her night even better. But no. No jocks, nothing on the floor. Puck was actually being nice.

"Could I, uhm," Puck coughed, clearing his throat nervously and shaking Santana from her searching, "Talk to you for a minute, like privately?"

_What the hell?_

"I'm kind of in the middle of something here Puck," She gestured to Quinn, trying to cover up her tracks. Puck was sceptical, she could tell that much by his expression, but when he ducked his head in defeat, she gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was her brother after all. Even if he had been a major douche bag in the past. Santana did a lot of things. Holding a grudge, she did not. Everyone deserved a second chance, right?

"Can we talk later?"

Puck stayed hesitant for a second. He seemed… Scared? And sure as hell surprised by shrugging and nodding. "Uh, sure. But _Brittany_ went that way. " He pointed towards the door. "Not Q."

Panic flowed through the Latina, and she crossed her arms defensively. "I know, I, uh-"

"I won't say anything."

She literally couldn't believe what she was hearing, or seeing for that matter. The jock standing in front of her wasn't the egotistical, obnoxious, son-of-a-bitch she'd met back in September - he seemed genuinely nice. Like somehow he'd transformed into a good guy within the span of a few weeks. Puck was like a completely different person? Had Rachel been right about him? Santana hoped not, otherwise she wouldn't let _that_ down for years.

"You don't have anything to say anyway. Quinn's my girlfriend and I don't care where Brittany went." The lie spiked her body and she almost rolled her eyes at the way it rejected the statement. She did care. A lot.

Puck didn't even seem like he wanted to argue as he dropped his hand and took a step back. What the hell had got into him? Noah 'bad-ass' Puckerman backing down?

_Damn, pigs are going to start flying soon._

"Whatever you want to believe Lopez," He jabbed her lightly in the arm with a chuckle lacing his tone. Yes, he actually _jabbed her in the arm._ Like playfully. Like they were best friends. What the fuck? And then he was leaning over towards her, hot breath brushing against her ear.

"Just don't hurt feel bad about breaking it off with Q," Puck whispered, "She's not as innocent as she makes out."

He pulled back and jutted his thumb over his shoulder. Santana saw Quinn and the blonde jock, she recognised to be Sam from Brett's party a few weeks back, stroking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

When she turned back, Puck and Rachel had disappeared from the kitchen, probably to go join in with the rest of the party or something. So she stood there, repeating Puck's words over and over, trying to make sense of them and coming up with nothing. What the hell did he mean? And how the fuck did he know she was going to break it off with Quinn? And why the hell was he trying to make her feel better? Wasn't there supposed to be some on-going vendetta between the two?

A soft graze of a palm broke her out her trance, and she slowly looked around to see Quinn standing in front of her with hazy green eyes. It sort of worried Santana how she literally had no awareness for her girlfriend, and frankly, didn't care all that much.

_Ouch._

"Heyyy babyyyy."

Santana rolled her eyes. Quinn was _way_ beyond the point of drunk. She checked her watch. They'd been there for about half an hour. Jesus. "Hi."

"Whatssssup whichu grumpysss?" Quinn slurred, patting her girlfriend's cheek.

Santana shrugged her off and pushed onto the balls of her feet, trying to scan the garden through the small window over the sink. But the darkness and reflection of the light prevented her from seeing the blonde head of hair she'd been searching for.

"Nothing." Santana growled in response.

"Nooo babyyyyy, you can tells me what'ss wrong."

The Latina dodged the hand reaching for her waist, "Just leave it Q."

"Sannnyy," Quinn took a drunken step forward and loosely wrapped her arms around Santana's neck. The brunette was barely aware of it as her eyes continued to roam around the darkness.

"Tellss mee, orr we coulds go upstaaairss and I'll make it up to youuu." Quinn said seductively, unhooking one arm and trailing it down Santana's neck, collarbone and cleavage until it met the bridge of Santana's bra.

Santana shook her head and looked at her girlfriend with something that resembled disgust. She hadn't meant too, and as soon as she realised she just reached behind her head, grasping the blonde's wrists and pulling them from around her. She held them in between their bodies and fiery brown eyes glared into hazel ones.

"Just fucking drop it Q."

Quinn took a firm step back, ripping her hands away from Santana's grasp and narrowed her eyes. It seemed as if the brunette's tone had zapped all the alcohol out of Quinn's body, because she was standing rigid and no longer swaying from left to right.

"What the fuck? What the hell is wrong with you?"

That did it for Santana. Something inside of her ticked, and she was pretty sure it was the time bomb called Quinntana.

"What did _you_ do wrong?" Santana chapped her chin mockingly, "Hm, let's see. First of all you treat my best friend like shit, and have _never_ made an effort with her, despite me making an effort with all your fucking friends all the fucking time. I bet you don't even know my best friend's fucking name."

Quinn opened her mouth but Santana stopped her, "And _don't_ call her 'tutor girl' because I've heard you call her that befor, several times. She has a god damn name Fabray."

The blonde's mouth snapped shut and mocha orbs looked away, not being able to see the defeat and hurt behind Quinn's eyes. She thrust up two fingers as if to count down.

"Second of all, you treat your _own_ best friend like shit. And don't deny it because you do."

Santana added another finger, "Third of all, Britt's dad nearly fucking _dies_, and you're too god damn selfish to travel with her to make sure her only living relative, bar her grandma, is still fucking alive. Instead you stay at home and do what? Text, gossip and paint your damn nails?"

By this time the whole kitchen had gone silent. Everyone was staring but Santana didn't even notice as she dug into her girlfriend - the most popular girl in school, who had literally _never_ been talked to like that, well, publicly anyway. If it wasn't for the intense grilling Santana was giving Quinn, she'd probably find the situation quite amusing.

"And last but not fucking least, you're letting some douche bag," Santana pointed to Sam aggressively, "Take fucking body shots off you, and pecking you on the lips, which I know is 'part of the game," Santana said mockingly, "But that's bull. You could've said no."

Hazel eyes widened, "And to top it all off, you're prancing around in basically _fuck all_, showing your shit around like nobody's business and you wonder why _I'm _pissed! You're my fucking _girlfriend_ Q, and you're acting like you're fucking single."

And then everything fell silent again. Santana's eyes roamed around the room and she noticed just how many people were watching, and realised the music had _actually_ been turned down, to listen to their argument. She felt shame and embarrassment spread through her body, her cheeks deepen in colour, and she dipped her head in reaction. If it wasn't for her tanned, olive skin it would've been a hell of a lot worse and she thanked God for being a Latina.

She mulled over her words. Feeling guilty about how aggressive they'd been. But, in some ways, Santana was kind of glad it'd happened. Because, really, it was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Everything had built up, and finally, despite Santana knowing she was the one in the deepest of the wrongs, she felt like she _could_ break up with the blonde, like she was allowed too. The tether tied between the two was broken. But she also knew she wouldn't, and couldn't, purposely humiliate or hurt Quinn. She couldn't break up with her in front of all these people. It just wouldn't be fair.

So she grabbed her girlfriend by the wrist and tugged her outside onto the deck, allowing the door to shut with a large thud. She let go, and paced about four steps in front of the blonde, crossing her arms and refusing to look back. Her neck craned just the tiniest bit to make sure the people inside the kitchen weren't leering, or leaning against the door, ear pressed to the wood with a glass in hand. The image of Puck shooing everyone out the kitchen caught her by surprise, and she twirled around slowly, thinking what the hell had got into Puck.

Finally she scuffed her pumps along the floor and decided to speak.

_Now or never._

"You're supposed to be my girlfriend. You can't do shit like that when you're in a relationship. Don't you know that?"

Quinn still stayed silent; she hadn't spoken since the brunette's outburst about four minutes ago. And Santana let out a long, deep exhale and slowly released her clenched fists, dropping her arms by her side. The mere silence from Quinn was almost like a sign that she wasn't even going to try and justify her actions, and it kind of made it a little easier for Santana prepare herself for what she was going to do.

"But you won't have to worry anymore about that."

Quinn's breath hitch in her throat and Santana squeezed her eyes shut, hating the way it settled in her gut. Guilt finally weighed down upon her and it put a considerable amount of pressure on her chest as she brushed her palm up her arm, rubbing roughly.

"What are you saying exactly?" Quinn questioned breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward.

Santana turned, halting the blonde and looking her dead in the eye. The words hung off the tip of her tongue, and she felt the venom bubble at the back of her throat. She didn't want to do this; hurting Quinn, but it was inevitable. She tried to convince herself it was just so wrong to stay with her when she didn't feel the same anymore, that she was doing the right thing. But the guilt still weighed in the back of her mind and she just couldn't fight it.

Everything would be so much easier if she had a damn time machine, and could've skipped ahead five minutes, missing the five words she knew Quinn wasn't going to like to hear. But that wasn't going to happen, no matter what she did. So she said it anyway.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

And then nothing.

The silence was almost unbearable. Santana stood her ground, and stayed just staring as a rush of emotions flashed behind Quinn's hazel eyes. She was yet to respond, and it'd been so long that Santana wondered whether she'd actually said it.

"_Stop! Artie! Stop it! That tickles!"_

That voice, that soft, half-drunken and half-flirtatious tone, broke Santana from her guilty gaze. She whipped her head round to the bottom of the garden, where Brittany was standing with a small, skinny jock with dark, thick-rimmed glasses. He had his hands all over her body, rubbing up and down her bare arms, and the jealousy poured like piping hot lava through Santana, burning her insides.

What the hell was Brittany doing? Santana just broke up with her damn girlfriend, and Brittany was all over this fucking 'Artie' guy, with her arms looped around his neck and fucking _giggling. _Artie, with his stupid fucking glasses, stupid fucking name and stupid fucking scrawny legs that seemed to dangle stupidly out his fucking pants. He didn't even know what goddess sculpture he was touching, and he didn't fucking deserve too.

_Fuck Artie._

Santana forced herself to look away. And when she did, Quinn was no longer standing in front of her. Santana snapped her head back and forth, searching the dimly lit deck for the blonde, but came up with nothing. She briefly glanced over her shoulder, and blue locked with brown, routing her to her position. Hurt darkened the usual sparkling sapphire orbs, and a sore, sad expression pasted the dancers face before she returned to talking with Artie, but obviously not as flirtatiously before.

Brittany didn't know Santana had broken up with Quinn. And if Brittany was already moving on with Artie, it was going to stay that way. Because it was the way it should be. So Santana brushed herself off, metaphorically, and felt the defeat sink in as she headed around the house, avoiding the questions from inside.

It only took about five minutes to get home, and she threw herself down on the bed harshly, feeling it creak under the pressure. The tears flowed from her eyes, as she was no longer able to fight them anymore, and she rolled over, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest as the fabric dampened by the second.

Brittany was with Artie.

_It's the way it should be._

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><p>The week went by relatively quickly. Monday came, and she started receiving strange stares from several freshmen, as she did her best to avoid Quinn and Brittany. Since word was Artie and Brittany hooked up – Santana really didn't want to see the dancer.<p>

Apparently Santana and Quinn's public break up had also got around, and it almost seemed like people were _scared_ of her because of it. She'd even heard a few people saying, "_I heard she slapped that Fabray bitch. She deserved it but boy I wouldn't want to be slapped by Lopez. She looks fierce."_ And Santana couldn't help but feel like it was week one all over again, with all the bickering's and quizzical glances.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much the same. Strange stares, managing to avoid Quinn and Brittany, and pretty much spending her time with Rachel or on her own. She didn't mind it, in fact she enjoyed it seeing her and Rachel hadn't hung out in a while. But when Friday came, it wasn't so much the same.

Santana was walking down the hallway, heading to sixth period Spanish, and texting Rachel. Apparently the smaller brunette was on a school trip to some Astrology lab in Harrod, which meant Santana, had to survive her classes, without Rachel peering round each corner, making sure it was clear of Quinn or Brittany.

**Rachel: Santana, I'm not going to call Quinn just to see where she is. Plus she only knows me as tutor girl and pretty much hates me.**

Santana rolled her eyes at the text, and shuffled her books under her left arm whilst grasping her phone in her right. She turned the corner, brushing passed several bodies and smiled at her reply as she approached her locker.

**Santana: Berry, that's ridiculous. She doesn't hate you. She doesn't exactly like you but she knows who you are. Can't you just see what lesson she has and make up some bullshit excuse like you'd like to know because of homework? You are **_**tutor girl**_** after all. Nerd.**

A cool speck landed upon her cheek, and she wiped it off before looking up and seeing an Asian girl, who Santana knew by the name of Tina, covered in blue slushy. A couple of jocks were walking away, pointing and laughing as it dripped down her face and Santana swung open her locker. She grabbed a few tissues before heading towards the girl and thrusting it into her hands with an apologetic expression and a small 'don't worry about them'. Tina seemed pleased.

_Stupid, fucking school._

**Rachel: You know when you call me Berry it doesn't make me 'exactly like you' either. It's demeaning. And if I'm a nerd so are you! We have the same grades! Anyway, no Santana, I'm not going to text Fabray. You're going to have to see each other whether you like it or not. If I knew you were going to be such a whiney bitch, I wouldn't have gone to this damn astrology lab.**

Another bell rang and Santana turned back to her locker, trying to imagine Rachel actually swearing and calling her a whiney bitch. She knew Rachel wouldn't ever say it to her face, but just imagining it was funny as shit. The thought created a chuckle to escape her lips and she shoved her textbooks into the locker, grabbing the Spanish dictionary and a few pieces of paper inside her black folded before heading away.

**Santana: Did you really just say whiney bitch? Lol. Anyway **_**Berry, **_**I've got to go to class-**

"Oh," Santana dropped her books as a body collided with hers, "Shit, sorry I didn't mean to-"

And there she was. Brittany in all her damn glory with her perfectly pale skin, sparkling sapphire eyes and defined cheekbones that Santana just wanted to kiss over and over. Brittany shoulder's visibly sunk as their eyes locked together and Santana found herself involuntarily backing away from the blonde.

The silence crept into their conversation, and they stood there with faces devoid of emotion, just staring at each other as the hallways fanned out of people. Santana felt her head speed up and she brought a shaky hand to her hair, threading her fingers through it and brushing it away from her face. The textbooks still remained on the floor, but they were long forgotten as Santana took a brief inspection of the emptying corridors and watched as the last student exited the hallway through one of the side doors.

"Hi."

Santana slowly turned back, looking Brittany dead in the eye, curious to weather she'd made up Brittany greeting her or not. She gulped audibly and shuffled her weight onto her opposite leg, running her left palm up her right arm.

"Hi." She responded a little louder than intended.

Brittany chewed on her bottom lip, and Santana unconsciously mirrored the movement. She glanced down, seeing the forgotten textbooks and ducked down to retrieve them. However the blonde did exactly the same and half bent, their foreheads collided with a small thud. Both of the girls retracted slightly, clutching their heads and wincing at the pain.

Santana took a glimpse, and realised they were still both mostly bent over and their faces were closer than necessary. She gulped, her eyes darting down to Brittany's pink lips and then back to her ever-darkening blue orbs. There was something that Santana could only relate to being like gravity that pulled her and the blonde together. As long as she stayed a certain distance away from Brittany, she could remain there. But once in her personal space, she didn't really have a chance.

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

She watched Brittany's pale cheeks darken with a blush, and blue eyes look away as if Brittany was embarrassed. Suddenly all the anger she felt for Brittany, all the mixed emotions about her dating Artie vanished and she was entranced by the blonde near her. There was something just so damn enticing about Brittany, and if she didn't make Santana's mind go blank whenever she was near, the brunette would probably be annoyed by it.

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have ducked when you…" Brittany stopped talking and narrowed her eyes as if she doubted herself, "…ducked. I'm rambling aren't I?"

Santana let out a small chuckle, "No anymore, it's fine. You were trying to help."

Brittany nodded and then dipped her head, trying to hide the smile. It just made the butterflies in Santana's stomach to multiply.

"You've been avoiding me."

Santana stopped and her eyes found everywhere that wasn't tall, blonde and incredibly gorgeous. She needed to stand, get away from Brittany. Because at this proximity, Brittany would sure as hell be able to see straight through Santana and the lie she was going to create like; _I'm not actually avoiding you, just not looking for you, per say._ It took about four excruciatingly long seconds for her to summon the strength to pull her head away from Brittany's and somehow she managed to snap back into reality. She focused, somehow, and quickly swept up her books, pulling them into her chest with crossed arms.

"I haven't." Santana stated as non-chalantly as possible.

Her eyes back to the other girl who was standing, tracing an invisible circle on the floor with her foot and smiling sheepishly. It was too damn adorable. _So_ damn adorable that Santana couldn't fight the smile that tugged at her lips, even though she tried her hardest to clamp down her facial muscles.

The seconds went by, and Brittany still hadn't replied. She'd seen the restrained smile, because there was a certain sadness about her mood. Brittany _knew _Santana had been avoiding her, and now Santana knew she was going to have to give some answers. Which she had none of. Fuck. Life was hard.

"I've missed you."

Santana's heart ballooned. Blue eyes sparkled with adoration and her heart fluttered uncontrollably. It didn't matter that Brittany had been all over Artie, it didn't matter that she was trying to remain angry at the blonde, even though she didn't legitimately have a reason and it sure as hell didn't matter that she'd tried her upmost hardest to avoid Brittany and hated every day of it because that, right then, being in that close proximity of the blonde, and with those three little words, it made up for all of it.

"I broke up with Quinn."

Santana frowned at her own escaped words. She hadn't even been thinking about telling Brittany that because of the whole _Artie thing_, but there was that ever-growing selfish part that wanted Brittany to know. And apparently it'd taken control of her.

The blonde dipped her head and focused on her feet, "I heard."

Brittany's response shouldn't have been a surprise. Santana knew word had got around. But deep inside, there was something resembling hope that because Brittany didn't know, Santana would tell her and they'd run off together happily, leaving Artie covered in dust. But she did know. And was still with Artie.

"Are you going to Mike's tomorrow night?"

Santana had to admit she didn't like it when Brittany jumped from conversation topic to conversation topic. It got kind of hard to keep up with after a while, but at that moment she was glad as she literally had _nothing_ to say in response that wouldn't have been either aggressive or bitter. So instead she nodded and focused on the question.

"Yeah, think so." Brittany grinned at Santana's response. "Are you?"

The blonde lifted her head and a sheepish smile graced her face, "I am now."

"You are now?"

"Now I have a reason too."

Both of them ducked their head in sync, flushing with embarrassment and Santana felt the sudden excitement overwhelm her body. About two hours ago she was dreading going to Chang's, knowing Brittany and Quinn…

_Oh shit, Quinn._

"Is…" Santana cleared her throat and waited for a passing Cheerio to turn the corner, "Is Quinn going?"

Something hardened in Brittany's features. Santana couldn't work out what it was and she just narrowed her eyes quizzically in response. Brittany stayed silent for about five seconds, and then nodded.

"Yeah."

"Oh, right."

"What time does it start?"

Their eyes met again. "About seven thirtyish."

Santana exhaled, and decided not to hold back. What was the point anymore? "Would you like to go together?"

Brittany didn't say anything. _Yes_ immediately flashed behind blue orbs and it was clear just _how much_ Brittany had wanted Santana to say that. But as if they were in a movie, right on fucking cue, the dancer's body snapped rigid, her whole muscles visibly tightening as her face fell emotionless. The Latina furrowed her brows and twisted her neck to the side slightly, silently questioning the blonde. But as she heard footsteps, she closed her eyes and prayed to God it wasn't the person she thought.

But the voice confirmed it.

"Uh, hey Britt." Quinn approached the two, filling the gap opposite the lockers and in between their bodies, "Hey Santana."

Santana gave a small nod and grimaced at the guilt that flooded through her body. She was single, and technically, just _technically_, she shouldn't feel guilty. Technically, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Technically.

_Yes you are._

Fucking technicalities.

"Hi." She responded lightly.

Quinn bounced up on her heels and rocked forward slightly, turning her attention to Santana with a forced cheeriness, "So are you going to Chang's tomorrow?"

Brown eyes flickered to blue ones, before going back to hazel, "Yeah… Are you?"

The smaller blonde grinned, "Definitely. Never one for missing a party."

It was pretty damn strange. Not to be up herself, but Santana had kind of hoped Quinn would be a little bit bummed by the break-up. But no, instead she was smiling and bouncing up and down in her step. Santana watched as Brittany leaned over and whispered something to her best friend, before giving the brunette a weak nod and spinning on her heels, leaving them alone.

"Well, me, B and Artie are going together," Quinn let out, "You should join us."

The memories of the break-up flashed through her mind, and she suddenly wondered whether or not it was real – considering Quinn, for all intense and purposes, basically just asked her on a double date. Mocha orbs flickered between each dark green orb and Santana felt the rage and jealously burn through her veins as the words _B and Artie_ repeated themselves in her mind. All the emotions flooded back and suddenly she was pissed again. Pissed at Brittany. Pissed that Artie and Brittany were together. Pissed at Quinn for asking on a fucking double date. Just generally pissed.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," Santana grinded her teeth together, "Wouldn't want to intrude."

"Quite the contrary,"

_Quite the contrary? Since when are we in a fucking Shakespearian film? _

"You'd make it a lot easier. After all, being the third wheel isn't exactly fun when Abrams and Pierce have their tongues shoved down each other's throats. Gets kind of boring."

Santana grimaced and felt the jealousy burn an Brittany shaped hole in the pit of her stomach. _Abrams and Pierce have their tongues shoved down each other's throats._ Fucking great. She snapped back to Quinn, thinking over her persuasion. They'd broken up less than a week ago. And now a double date? Hell, didn't Quinn get the point?

"Quinn, we broke up." Hurt flashed behind hazel eyes and guilt struck the Latina. It was seriously having to stop soon otherwise she'd tear out her conscience, "And now you're asking me to join like we're going on a double date?"

"No," Quinn said a little quicker than necessary. Santana raised both eyebrows, "No necessarily a double date. I was just thinking that we could go, as friends."

"It kind of sounds like a double date," Quinn seemed hopeful. Santana knew she'd have to knock her down, again. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. "And I don't want to do that."

There it was. Again. The hurt filled hazel eyes. That Santana had caused. Again.

"Then just friends," Quinn shrugged, "We'll just go as friends. There's no reason we can't go as friends."

Santana knew the blonde was right. She was still doubtful. There wasn't really a reason why they couldn't be friends, people who break up stay friends sometimes, right?

"Sure Q," A huge grin took over Quinn's face, but there was something mischievous behind it, and it made Santana feel uneasy, "Who's driving?"

"Artie. Meet at my house at eight, and he's picking us up from there, okay?"

Santana grimaced. _Great, being driven with fucking Artie. Bet he has a big fucking car and a big fucking house. Fucking clichés._

Feeling more than awkward, and guilty, but not knowing what by, she nodded, "Okay."

The blonde stood there for a couple of seconds, and Santana could see that she wanted to ask something. She didn't want to hear it. So instead, she turned, giving Quinn a quick smile before heading off in the opposite direction. Just as she was about to turn around the corner, she heard a "Santana, wait" and looked back to see the other girl jogging up behind her.

A dark eyebrow raised, "Yeah?"

The head Cheerio slowed to a stop about a foot in front of Santana, and played with her fingers nervously, "Can I ask you something?"

_No._

"Yes."

Quinn looked around, scanning the area, "Is there-" She cleared her throat, "The reason we…"

Santana heard the silent _broke up_ at the end and supressed the burn running through her muscles telling her to run away. "Yeah…"

"Is there someone else?"

Her heart stopped. It literally stopped functioning as soon as the Quinn let out the question. Her mouth involuntarily dropped into a silent 'oh' and panic flashed through her. If it wasn't for her stone like state, Santana probably would've passed out.

_Just tell her. Get it over and done with._

_Brittany's her best friend. You can't do that._

_You and Brittany aren't even together._

_You still have feelings for her. Just do it._

Quinn had no idea that Santana was inwardly arguing with herself. Should she tell her? Rip the bandage off quickly instead of tearing it off slowly? Fuck. What's she going to do? If she could have literally one wish right now, it would be to go back in time about thirty seconds and keep on walking, or leave before and run away so Quinn couldn't catch her. Fuck! Why did she have to ask her that!

The answer was right there on the tip of her tongue. But instead a foreign one bypassed it and came out before she could even stop it. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

_What is this? Twenty questions?_

"Yeah Q. I'm sure. There's no-one else."

It was suddenly obvious that in some ways admitting that, should've brought a negative reaction from the blonde. Because it just meant she didn't want to be with Quinn. Surely not having anyone else was worse, mostly because it meant she didn't want anyone else? Right?

Quinn took a couple of seconds before she smiled and reached forward, pulling Santana into an incredibly awkward hug. The brunette was the first to pull away, feeling entirely awkward about the whole situation. Including the hug. Hell, _especially_ the hug.

"Thank you."

Dark eyebrows creased together as Santana looked at her ex-girlfriend, "What for?"

"For being honest with me."

_Oh God._

"So I'll see you at eight at mine?"

Santana nodded, "Sure Q."

"Bye S."

"Bye.

And that was the end of that.

* * *

><p>The match finished earlier than expected, and that meant the party started sooner. Quinn had texted Santana, asking her to come over for seven thirty as the party had kicked off around six, and to bring alcohol. So armed with two bottles of vodka, some apple shots and wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a red tank top and grey Chucks, she walked towards Quinn's house.<p>

The walk seemed all too familiar. She remembered the times walking down the same path, hand in hand with her girlfriend, just smiling and just generally being happy. There was a time when she didn't constantly feel guilty, sad, or angry and in some ways she hated the fact that everything had changed. Not because she wanted to be with Quinn, because she didn't – she hated that her life wasn't as easy as it used to be. She missed the freedom, the lack of worrying and not having to constantly watch what she said.

All because of one person.

One insignificant person, no different from any other insignificant on this god for saken world, that'd managed to make her happier and sadder than she'd ever felt in her whole entire life. That'd managed to turn her world upside down and cause emotions in places she never thought were possible. And no, not just sexual ones.

_Fuck._

Santana look up at the stoop. Which seemed more daunting than usual and dread for the night ahead ran through her body.

"Get a hold of yourself." She whispered as she headed up the concrete steps, raising her arm and rapping on the door firmly three times when she arrived.

She stood back, hovering on the top step of the stoop and tapping her foot nervously. It swung open no more than three seconds later, with a bewildered Brittany standing there in an incredibly short and tight cerulean strapless dress that highlighted her eyes. Her eyes. Damn they were distracting. Blonde locks were hanging in loose curls over her slender shoulders.

Brittany was undeniably, fucking beautiful.

"Santana?"

Santana snapped her head up and tried _not_ to focus on the incredibly, toned and mouth-watering legs that seemed to go on forever, being shown underneath the revealing dress, and stared at Brittany.

"What are you doing here?" Brittany continued, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

Santana stepped over the threshold, and into the house where she stood silently until she heard the door shut, "Quinn invited me to come with you and _Artie_." She said bitterly.

"You and Quinn?"

The brunette could see the jealousy, and it brought a smirk to her face. "Yeah, me, Quinn, you and Artie."

Sadness darkened usually bright eyes, and a strange sense of satisfaction ran through the Latina. She knew that Brittany was inferring a double date, but at that moment she didn't really feel like correcting her.

So instead she cocked her head to the side quickly and feigned a smile. "Where's Q?"

Brittany shuffled away from the door and leant against the banister going up the stairs, "Getting ready."

"Oh, right okay."

On cue, Quinn walked down the stairs in a matching dress to Brittany's, but in red. Santana had to admit, she was still smoking hot, and being hormonal and all did make her mouth run dry a bit – but when she glanced back to Brittany, all attraction for her ex-girlfriend disappeared.

_Oh God._

Santana wasn't looking forward to the night ahead.

* * *

><p>It was half-eight when they finally left the house. There had been a considerable amount of tension and awkward silences between Santana and Brittany – but she'd just pushed passed it and gripped the edges of the armchair tighter, just watching Quinn down the shots she'd lined up for herself. Apparently sharing was out the question.<p>

When the doorbell went, Santana's body went rigid, and she mentally prepared herself for the worst – being Brittany and Artie ripping each other's clothes off and taking each other on the floor – which she knew was extreme, and wouldn't happen. But she should be prepared, just in case.

Quinn opened the front door, and there he was, standing in an open collared white shirt and black pants, with his tie hanging loosely from his neck. Santana knew the football team had a meeting beforehand, but she didn't know it was supposed to be a dress up thing. And that just gave her another reason to make up some lame excuse on why she couldn't go. Lack of formal clothing.

_Nice one, genius._

"Hey Brittany," Artie called, eyes flickering towards Santana, "Lopez." He deadpanned.

Santana rolled her eyes. She hadn't even done anything and he was _already_ giving her the deadpan treatment. Fucking great.

"Abrams." She replied in the same manner as the jock, smirking when she received a small snarl.

Quinn bounced past Artie, with alcohol fuelling the cheeriness, and sat down on the arm of the chair Santana was occupying. She looked up, and creased her face quizzically, slightly put off by the blonde's enhanced closeness. Especially considering, you know, the whole minor 'break up' thing. A sky blue gaze burned a hole into the side of her temple, and she didn't even turn to acknowledge Brittany's eyes.

"Uh, Q?" Santana questioned wearily.

Quinn grinned and swayed slightly, "Yeah S?"

She gestured to the small space between them and then looked expectantly back up to the blonde. However Quinn just shrugged and beckoned Artie in, who of course, took a seat next to Brittany – close enough so their thighs were touching, and close enough that Santana let out, yes actually _let out_, a small growl. She ducked her head, missing the way Brittany snapped her head up and instead she focused on her Chucks, finally remembering how underdressed she felt.

"Do you have anything, I could like, borrow? I kind of feel underdressed." Santana gestured to her outfit.

Quinn looked at her quizzically for a moment, like she'd just spoken Chinese and then doing a once over of her outfit, "Yeah. Hold on."

The head Cheerio sprinted up the stairs and Santana settled back into the armchair, fiddling with the loose thread on the right arm. She could feel Brittany staring at her, but she said nothing. A few giggles came from the sofa, and Santana felt her hands tighten; her knuckles whiten against her skin and her teeth grit. It took everything she had not to look and see what was happening. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the fireplace, watching the flame flicker every now and then.

Two seconds later, Quinn bounded down the stairs with a small, black dress in her right hand and headed towards Santana, who pushed off up the sofa and met her ex halfway, not wanting to be near the giggling couple on the sofa anymore.

"You know where the bathroom is." Quinn handed over the dress.

Santana smiled lightly, "Thanks." And then she headed towards the bathroom.

She locked the door behind her and stripped out of her clothing, folding everything and placing them on top of each other on the kitchen counter. After she slipped into the dress, she unclipped her hair and let it tumble down past her shoulders. A quick search of the bathroom cabinet, and she found mascara and lip gloss. With a shrug, she applied them both quickly and puckered her lips, trying to make herself look half presentable. Except for the fact that her eyes looked like she rolled out of bed about two hours ago and head-butted a door.

"Fuck it." She said as she swung open the door, grasping her clothes and headed into the foyer.

As soon as she approached it, Quinn glanced over from the armchair she'd previously been occupying, and her eyes widened. Santana dipped her head in embarrassment, and continued until she felt a particular pair of eyes on her. As she looked up, she found the certain pair of brilliant blue orbs sparkling at her. Brittany's mouth drooped into a silent 'oh' and she watched as the blonde licked her lips. Smugness immediately shot through her and she felt gratefully satisfied by it as Brittany's eyes beamed with adoration and… Arousal maybe?

Santana gulped and looked back to Quinn who was virtually giving her the same look, but she didn't care. All she was thinking about was how fucking brilliant it was for Brittany to be looking at her like _that_, whilst Artie was sitting right next to her.

_Fucking brilliant._

* * *

><p>The party was crowded, (like most of the McKinley parties Santana had attended were), by the time they got there, and Santana could barely see a thing. There was so many bodies it seemed hard to believe that this many people could fit in a room without dying from lack of oxygen or something. But somehow, everyone was still able to dance in the make-shift dance floor previously known as the living room.<p>

Mike's house was freakin' _huge._ Unlike most of the Jocks and Cheerio's, it wasn't down Prosperous Avenue, and instead it was nearing the other side of town. According to Quinn, Mike's parents were like really important in Lima since his Dad was a hotshot lawyer and his mom a doctor or dentist, Santana wasn't sure which one, she'd tuned out listening to Quinn when Artie ran his hand up Brittany's thigh in the front of the car.

Santana had pretty much bolted from the stupid damn couple after they'd arrived, and quickly grabbed a vodka and Coke, which majorly lacked on the Coke side considering it'd only been about half an hour and Santana's head was already spinning. But she didn't want to get drunk, and she pretty much stopped drinking when she saw Brittany with Artie, leaning up against the far wall with his hand resting dangerously low on the dancer's hip.

Sober Santana? Could handle _Bartie. _Drunk Santana? Not so much.

There had been a few parents there, but most of them had flooded as soon as Azimio had cracked out the keg and shouted 'PARTY!' at the top of his lungs. So there she was, standing alone on the decking of the Chang's house, cigarette in hand and breathing out the toxic fumes in small circles, watching a few couples making out near the bottom of the garden.

Well, that was until a group of jocks tumbled out the back door, armed with a bottle of Smirnoff and a football. They started chucking it around the garden, almost taking Santana's drink off the railing that she'd balanced it off, and cheering when the ball hit the team's nerdy water boy. Who the hell would come to one of these parties if they knew they were going to be bullied? Stupid water boy.

_Damn, someone's snappy._

Santana took a final drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the nearby bush and grabbing her drink. She sipped it tentatively, still feeling the burn down the back of her throat and wishing she wouldn't react stupidly if she got drunk – but inevitably knowing she definitely _would_ do something she'd regret. Maybe punch Artie? Or declare her supressed feelings for her ex-girlfriends best friend? Neither of which really took her fancy.

She started shaking her head, and then stopped abruptly as she turned around. Brittany was leaning against the door, one foot to the floor and the other pressed against the wood. Her arms were hidden behind her back, but her elbows were bent and sticking out from either side. There was something that Santana could only work out to be disappointment as blue eyes flickered from Santana to her left and Santana only followed the line of sight, eyeing a random bush. Which confused the hell out of her.

"Since when do you smoke?" Brittany asked after a few seconds.

_Ah, there we go._

Santana clenched her jaw, "Since when do you care?"

The blonde narrowed her eyes, "You didn't answer my question."

"Neither did you."

What seemed like a huge electrical explosion sparked between the two. Despite their quick retorts and serious underlying and ignored issues, there was undeniable chemistry that they both seemed to sense – and grins took over their faces in sync.

"So why are you avoiding me again?"

Santana shuffled, and leant back against the railing with her elbows. "I'm not."

Brittany pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer, "You are."

"So what if I am? I'm sure you've got other company."

The blonde cocked her head to the side and suddenly Santana felt very uncomfortable. She ran her tongue along her teeth, feeling her hands shake as blue eyes examined her intensely. A heavy exhale escaped her lips and she crossed her arms, half-crushing the empty cup whilst waiting the study to finish. After a few seconds, she stopped tapping her foot and glared back at the blonde,

"Are you done yet?" Santana spat.

Brittany grinned. Actually _grinned_, despite Santana's tone. She wasn't exactly sure what happened in the next few seconds, but before she could even object or agree to anything, Brittany had grabbed her by the wrist and half-threw her into a shed. Within seconds Santana's body had taken over and pushed the blonde up against the wooden wall, feeling it creak under the pressure of both of the girls leaning against it.

Brittany's eyes were closed, and Santana brought a hand up to the other girl's face as her soft, half-smiling lips hovered about a centimetre away from Brittany's, feeling them ghost over each other with anticipation. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute and her breathing had turned into panting somewhere along the line. Her throat was running drier by the second, and the heat between the two girl's body was growing by the _millisecond_. They were so damn close to kissing, so damn close it almost pained Santana – but she wanted to marvel in the moment. All the other times they'd kissed, she hadn't even hesitated, she hadn't thought about anything, and frankly, should've done because she hadn't been single.

But then, then she was single and suddenly everything was running through her damn mind. Every memory, every touch, every kiss between her and Brittany raced through her mind and she started thinking of consequences. How fucking inconvenient.

"What are we doing?" Brittany breathed, her eyes still squeezed shut.

Santana rested her forehead against the blonde's feeling slightly disappointed that Brittany had broken the intense moment by speaking. She inhaled, feeling the blonde's unique, sweet taste on her tongue and moaned lightly at it.

"I don't know." She whispered back breathlessly.

They hadn't even been kissing and Santana was already out of fucking breath. It was ridiculous the effect Brittany had on her. But still pretty damn good. Santana pulled back the slightest bit, opening her eyes and whimpering in sync with the blonde at the loss of contact.

Brittany's shaky hands slid up to cup Santana's face, and her eyelids cracked open the slightly bit to reveal her sapphire orbs, which seemed to be glowing brighter than Santana had ever seen before. It almost took Santana's breath away, and she swore that there was no better sight than seeing the blonde girl like this, up so close and without doubt in her eyes.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Santana repeated.

Brittany's eyes flickered down to Santana's lips and then back up again, "Okay."

And then they kissed. Santana's eyes rolled into the back of her head as soon as Brittany's lips met hers. She wanted to deepen the kiss, but suddenly she was hesitant. She'd never been hesitant before when it came to kissing the dancer, but this kiss seemed completely different from any of their other kisses. Maybe it was because back then Santana wasn't single, maybe it was because back then Brittany said it was a mistake, but maybe; just maybe, it was because this kiss seemed to speak a louder volume than any amount of words.

They hadn't gone passed just keeping their lips pressing against each other, and the urge was burning inside Santana's stomach to prolong it – but she didn't want to ruin the moment. However as she thought Brittany was about to pull away, the blonde ran her soft tongue along Santana's bottom lip. And Santana moaned. Loudly.

She felt Brittany smile into the kiss, and arch herself further into the kiss. Santana ran her hands down the blonde's toned arms, feeling the muscles twitch under her touch and inwardly smirking at it. When they reached the dancer's trim waist, she gripped it tightly and applied the smallest of pressures to her fingertips, massaging in small circles as she opened her mouth.

It seemed like a freakin' dream how easily their mouths moved in sync. And as soon as she breathed in deeply through her nose, she felt Brittany's tongue part her lips further and then a tongue swipe lazily against her own. A groan escaped one of them, but she wasn't sure which one and continued to deepen the kiss. Their tongues glided and massaged one another, savouring each other's taste and both wanting more.

Pale hands slid into dark hair, and Santana found her face being secured to Brittany's face. Nothing felt better than this, her mouth moving in a practiced rhythm with Brittany's had to be one of the best thing, if not _the_ best thing, she'd ever experienced. And all irrational thoughts including punching a small, scrawny jock with nerdy glasses flew straight out her brain and for the few minutes the kissing went on – it was just them.

But soon enough their body's needs kicked in and they parted for air, panting heavily as their foreheads pressed against each other. Santana tried to open her eyes, but found herself struggling as her head started spinning at the sheer memory of kissing Brittany, and when she ran her tongue along her lips, tasting the memory of Brittany, she almost fucking fainted.

"I'm not dating Artie," Brittany whispered, breaking the silence. "Just in case you wanted to know." She added quickly.

Santana opened her eyes and saw honestly shine in Brittany's eyes. She felt her lips tug up at the side, and ducked her head further; squeezing the blonde's waist a bit to make sure she wasn't actually dreaming. Hope fluttered throughout her stomach and a slight flush darkened her cheeks as Brittany groaned as their bodies pressed against each other.

_Thank God._

But there was a question still nagging her in the back of her mind, even if she was like over the fucking moon, it was still there. And the thought of it just brought back some of the anger from earlier.

"But at the party…" There was something innately vulnerable about her tone. Santana hadn't meant it to come out like that, it just had.

Brittany squinted her eyes quickly, before shaking her head and releasing her bottom lip, "We were just talking."

"Quinn said you two were like…"

"Like what?" Brittany asked calmly, sliding her hands down tanned arms until she reached hands, where she laced their fingers with each other.

Santana almost forgot to answer the blonde's question as her skin burned at the dancers touch. Not as in a painful burn, but as in an _ohmygodwe'reholdinghands_ burn.

But she refocused and shook her head, answering the blonde's question. "Together."

Brittany squinted for a moment, and then cocked her head to the side whilst a smirk spread across her face. "Santana, we were just _talking_. Like friends. _Talking._"

"Talking?" Santana scoffed, lowering her head slightly to hide her obvious jealousy, and feeling the ashes of it burn in the pit of her stomach, "With his hands?"

The blonde grinned widely and brown eyes looked from side to side, with a quizzical expression plastering her face. "Why are you laughing?"

"You're jealous."

It was more of a statement than a question. And Santana tried to open her mouth to deny it, but instead she stood there looking stupid with her mouth opening and closing several times and nothing coming out.

"It's cute."

Santana stared incredulously at the blonde. She'd been called a lot of things before, like pretty, hot, banging, but cute? Never.

"Cute?" Santana grinned stupidly.

"Cute." Brittany repeated with affection lacing her tone.

Santana couldn't restrain the urge as she leant forward and brought their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss. She pulled away reluctantly and felt her heart pound harder at the sight of Brittany sighing with her eyes closed. Apparently the effect Brittany had on Santana, also went the other way.

"So what _are _we doing?" Santana asked warily. She didn't want to bring up the question, but she knew she wanted this. She wanted to be able to kiss Brittany whenever she wanted. She wanted to hold her hand down the school hallways and lead her to her classrooms, have small _I love you more/No, I love you more_ fights and all that cliché bullshit that couples had.

Brittany pecked Santana one the lips one last time before sliding away and heading to the opposite side of the shed. She questioned the blonde for a quick moment, and then took a step which was interrupted quickly,

"No, stay there," Santana frowned and Brittany grinned, "We won't talk unless we're apart."

Santana smirked, "And that's a bad thing because…"

"We need too," Brittany bit her bottom lip, "And I know if I'm within two metres of you I won't be able to restrain myself from kissing you. So you stay on your side and I'll stay on mine."

_God the things she does to me._

Santana leaned back against the wall, mimicking Brittany's earlier position and took in a deep breath. "Okay, let's talk."

"You just broke up with Quinn like last week."

_Okay, not exactly what I'd been expecting._

"And she's my best friend." Brittany continued.

"I know Britt. But… What I feel for you. I just…"

Something sparkled in the blonde's eyes and she jerked forward slightly before Santana shook her head, "Nuh uh, your rules. You stay over your side."

"Tease."

Santana cocked her head to the side quickly, "Learned from the best."

"Before anything happens between us," Brittany gestured between her and Santana, "I need to talk to Quinn."

In that moment Santana knew there were better things they could be doing than talking about Quinn, and anything sounded better than doing so. She still felt guilty and didn't want Quinn to get in the way of her and Brittany. But it was inevitable. Shit happened and there were consequences to having feelings for her ex-girlfriends best friends.

"Okay," Santana breathed, "_We'll_ talk to Quinn. I'm not having you on your own."

Brittany shook her head and moved towards Santana, threading their fingers together and pulling their bodies flush against each other. "No San, you've gotta let me on my own. Quinn won't do anything. I just can't have her finding out about this any other way. It _has_ to come from me."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell Brittany that Quinn won't take it lightly. Mostly because she promised Quinn that there was no-one else, and if they suddenly came out and told her this, it was pretty obvious they lied. But then again, it would also mean they wouldn't have to stop hiding. And Santana wanted Brittany so much it was almost killing her.

So instead she nodded reluctantly and bit her lip, "Okay. But I want to be _around_ at least. Just in case."

"Just in case? She's not going to do anything San. She's my best friend."

The Latina leant forward and pressed a quick kiss to the side of Brittany's mouth, "That's what worries me Britt. I know she won't do anything but, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

Brittany grinned and Santana felt the blonde's heart pound between their chests. "Okay. Fine, you can be _around._ But not tonight."

"Not tonight." Santana agreed and leaned forward once more, quickly admiring Brittany's angelic face before their lips pressed against each other. Brittany's fingers lingered over tanned cheeks, stroking gently over the soft skin whilst Santana ran her hands up and down the dancers clothed ribs.

She opened her mouth and Brittany's tongue was welcome warmly as they remained close, pushed up against each other intimately and taking in every inch of each other's clothed body as much as possible. Tongues retracted and Santana melted into Brittany's lips further as the blonde took her bottom lip between her lips and sucked gently. Within a few seconds, Santana felt the dancer graze her teeth lightly against her bottom lip and she smiled into the kiss as her lip was taken between a perfect set of teeth.

"We need to," Brittany pecked Santana's lips, interrupting her sentence, "Get back to," Another peck, "The party before," Another peck, "Someone notices," Another peck, "We're missing."

She felt all strength disappear as Brittany deepened the kiss and their hands found each other, threading together intimately as their tongues danced against one another. But a bang against the shed door broke them from their trance and the jumped apart, both whimpering loudly at the loss.

Brown eyes locked with blue and the urge to leap forward and return to kissing burned through her veins, but instead she moved towards the door and pressed her hand against it, pushing it open slightly. She peered out and saw a Jock jogging away with a football in hand and throwing it into the distance.

"It was just the Jocks chucking about the ball," Santana murmured, turning back to Brittany who was more than a metre away. _Not cool._ "But we really do need to get back."

The blonde seemed reluctant, and hell, Santana definitely was too. But the dancer walked over, no scratch that, _glided_ over and took the Latina's hand between her own, threading their fingers together.

"Okay." Brittany reasoned with a smile, "Do I look okay?"

Santana brought her free hand up and swept it gently over Brittany's temple, lingering over her soft, pale cheeks and ignoring the way the blonde's lips were slightly swollen. It was kind of a turn on and she knew if she focused on that they definitely _wouldn't_ be leaving the shed anytime soon.

"Beautiful."

* * *

><p>With a deep breath, Santana pushed the door open and walked out, towards Mike who was standing with Puck and Rachel. Who seemed freakishly close for <em>friends. <em>They all started talking animatedly, not remembering that she was holding hands with Brittany, but standing so close that it wasn't obvious. And Santana felt content. She felt pretty damn happy that she could do this without anyone judging.

Well, that wouldn't last for long.

Quinn stumbled out the house, and onto the deck, clutching a red cup and looking with hazy half-hooded eyes towards Santana and Brittany. The Latina whipped her hand away from Brittany's, not bothering to look at the hurt that she knew was flashing across the blonde's face.

_Shit, had Quinn caught them?_

The brunette gulped, feeling curiosity and slight panic flash through her body as the blonde narrowed her eyes and smiled mischievously. Something about that smile worried Santana, and she involuntarily moved even closer to Brittany, standing slightly in front of her as if the small blonde was about to shoot the dancer.

"So," Quinn announced with slight amusement lacing her tone, "Let's all play a game."

Santana looked to Rachel who was standing no more than two foot away with Puck next to her. She gulped and the small brunette shot her an _oh-shit_ expression, which only ignited the panic. Quinn staggered forward another few steps, tripping over her heels and towards the table in front of Santana and Brittany.

By this time the majority of the football squad were around, including Mike, Puck, Azimio, Artie and Sam to name a few, and a considerable amount of the Cheerio's were too. She was pretty sure Mercedes was standing near Sam, and the Asian that got slushied a few days back, Tina, was there too. But Santana didn't bother noting who was there; she was barely focusing on anyone except Quinn who was swaying from side to side with an evil smirk on her face. But she sure as hell knew she was surrounded by people. And that just worried her even more.

"Any ideas?" Quinn grinned to herself, "How about you _bestie_?" She asked Brittany who widened her eyes, "Got any ideas?"

The dancer took a tentative step forward, and hostility radiates off Quinn, almost visibly. Santana cupped the blonde's wrist, and tugged her to a halt, pleading silently not to do or say anything for that matter. But Brittany softened her face and smiled lightly. And Santana understood that look, so she let go and clasped her hangs together in front of her.

"Quinn, what are you doing?" Brittany questioned calmly.

The head Cheerio held Brittany's gaze intensely, and Santana saw the way the blonde looked irate. Almost scarily irate. "I'm just trying to liven up the party with a game."

Quinn spun around, looking at everyone in the small half-crescent that'd formed in front of her like an audience and raised both hands,

"Is anyone up for a game? Brittany? Santana?" She asked curiously and challengingly.

Something clicked in Brittany, and Santana watched as sheer horror blanketed the dancers face. The same emotion was mirrored inside the Latina and she took a tentative step forward to stand next to Brittany, her hand hovering by the blonde's wrist as if she'd need to whip her away at any second.

Quinn snarled and her eyes darted down to Brittany and Santana's hands, which were innocently hanging next to each other – they weren't even brushing, mostly because the brunette made a point of making sure that wouldn't happen. The head Cheerio made her way slowly around the round table separating the Latina and dancer, until she was over the other side standing next to Puck and Rachel, who were about five metres away.

"How about a game of truth or dare?" Quinn continued sharply, her eyes smouldering, and not in the sexy way.

The Latina's heart plummeted. She could feel everyone's eyes on her and she held her breath, hoping and praying that what she thought was coming next, wasn't going too.

"Or maybe just dare, because nobody knows how to tell the truth anymore apparently."

Quinn shots Santana a quick glare. And she knew the blonde was referring to yesterday's denial of there being anyone else.

_Fuck._

Once again, Santana moved further in front of Brittany, and she could feel her heart beat pound inside her ears. Her throat was running dry, and she felt the intense pressure build upon her. It was insecurity. And she didn't like it one bit.

"So, Brittany," Quinn cocked her head to the side with a smug smile, "I dare you…" She tapped her chin, feigning the need to think of a question. But Santana saw the question before the head Cheerio had even spoken it. "I dare you to show all of us how you really feel."

Santana heard the dancer's breath hitch, and she crossed her arms, restraining the urge to snake her arm around Brittany's waist in a comforting gesture. When Quinn finally looked back with a horrifically evil smirk, Santana's face fell and she took a challenging step towards her ex-girlfriend.

"Quinn…" She warned, her voice deep and serious. "Don't."

Fair eyebrows rose, and hazel eyes met mocha ones quickly before glancing over Santana's shoulder back towards the blonde. It was too late; she could see the words forming on the tip of Quinn's tongue before she'd even said it. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

"Show all of us how you really feel," Quinn repeated for emphasis, edging around the chair and coming closer to Santana, "By kissing Santana."

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><p><strong>DUH DUH DUHHHHHHHHHHHHH!<strong>

**Did that come off right?**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed! And please, review!**


	15. Right On Cue

**Sorry about the wait on this one guys, but I've got zero inspiration for it. Lagging majorly and there's a lot more for The Bodyguard, so apologies.**

**But anyway, this is a short chapter and I hope you enjoy anyway! I apologise in advance for the shit quality.**

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>R (for this chapter)  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate (unfortunately)

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><p>"<em>Happiness doesn't come cheap. Hell, if it did, we would all be smiling."<em>_**  
><strong>_- Dan Scott, OTH

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><p><strong>Can't Fight Fate:<br>Chapter Fifteen**

"_Show all of us how you really feel," Quinn repeated for emphasis, edging around the chair and coming closer to Santana, "By kissing Santana."_

Hazel eyes never left brown, even though the dare was directly aimed at Brittany. Santana audibly swallowed, and her eyes widened comically. She could feel the entire party around her just staring, watching like they were on TV or something. She'd never seen Quinn as angry as this, eyes burning, flames flickering behind dark green and teeth bared in an aggressive half-snarl.

How could she break the tension? What was she supposed to do? No-one had spoken for a long, awkward silence and now what was going on between Santana and Brittany, which even they didn't know what the hell it was, had just been announced to everyone. Quinn was only doing this to spite Brittany. Christ, Santana and Quinn had just broken up, and everyone knew that. So if Brittany suddenly kissed her in front of everyone, she'd be the one looked down on, Brittany would be the bitch, the one that broke her and Quinn up despite the best friend code.

She glanced around, taking in all the faces of the people surrounding them and watching as Rachel's face was half-betrayed and half-shocked. But not explaining to her best friend the situation wasn't exactly her top priority at that moment, she'd have to get yelled at later.

_Always something to look forward too._

Puck was next to her, arm snaked around her waist and concentrating on his feet. He knew, he knew that there was something, even when she refused to accept it, between her and Brittany. Hell, he'd chucked her in mud and threatened her to stay away from his _then_ girlfriend. Christ, if Puck, the once ignorant, self-absorbed jackass saw it, how many other people did too?

She had to say something. _Anything_ to break the silence. It was only intensifying and she could hear her blood pumping in her ears louder than an African drum. "Quinn I-"

"No," The hazel eyed blonde snapped, her eyes narrowing further and teeth grinding together loudly, "I believe Brittany still has something to do."

Quinn turned agonisingly slowly to Brittany, and if they'd been in a comic, steam would be blowing out her ears. The glare she was giving the taller blonde was almost painful, as if the flames in her eyes were about to come out and attack Brittany.

"Well?" Quinn pressed, leaning one arm back onto the top of a chair and grasping her cup tighter, "Are you going to show her how you really feel, as well as all of these _lovely_ people," She gestured to everyone with a quick sweep of her hand, "Or are you going to leave sweet Santana, hanging?"

How the fuck did Quinn know? Had someone told her? No. No-one knew. It would possible. Was it?

"It's not supposed to be a secret is it? Because I'm pretty sure the shed is a public place." Quinn spat back, cocking her head towards the shed.

Brittany gasped next to her, and she instantly reached out her hand and laced their fingers together, pulling the blonde behind her. "Back off, Quinn."

"Aw, how cute, protecting your girlfriend."

"She's not-"

"Not what? Your girlfriend?" Quinn raised an eyebrow and took a long sip of her drink, before throwing down the empty cup carelessly on the lawn, "Oh, so you're just fucking her then?"

Santana gripped Brittany's hand harder as the words escaped Quinn's lips, but the blonde let her hand fall limp. Their fingers only stayed by the strength Santana was still applying. Worry shot through the brunette and she swallowed thickly before turning slightly and seeing Brittany with a pained expression. It wasn't fair. Why the fuck was it so difficult for two people to be together? Fuck.

"No." She growled in response, clenching her jaw.

"So what is she then? Because all I can see is a dirty, little, slut."

Red flashed in front of Santana's eyes, and she felt Brittany cower behind her. The urge to punch Quinn burned through her veins, but as if Brittany sensed it, the anger flushed away with a simple thumb pad rubbing over her knuckles in a reassuring manner.

"She's," Santana paused, trying to swallow the anger and keeping her voice as low as possible. She didn't need _anymore_ people eavesdropping into their conversation, "She's not a slut."

Quinn laughed again sarcastically, "I beg to differ, San. She knows what she is. Even she isn't _that_ stupid."

Brittany tensed behind Santana and dropped the brunette's hand, before taking a step back. Hurt ran through the Latina, but she pushed it down as she focused on the task at hand. Defending Brittany.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, taking another challenging step forward and separating herself further from Brittany, "What the fuck are you gaining from this?"

The shorter blonde shrugged, "Satisfaction," She smirked, "Oh that reminds me."

Santana's eyes widened and the hazel eyed blonde turned and stared directly at Rachel and Puck, cocking her head to the side with a smirky snarl, "Berry, I'm sure Puck wants to cash in on that _whatever you need_ coupon."

_What the fuck?_

The Jewish girl stepped away from the tall jock and stared at him incredulously. Quinn smirked and withdrew a small piece of paper from the inside of her bra, flicking it towards the two and resting her hand on her hip.

"Noah?" Rachel whispered, her face flushed with embarrassment and hurt, "What the hell?"

Puck's eyes widened and his stare darted between Quinn and Rachel, mouth dropping open as if he was deliberating the right words to let out, "No, Rach-"

A sharp slap bellowed through the air and before Santana knew what had happened, Puck had his head turned to the side, his cheek reddened with the outline of Rachel's palm, and the short brunette was storming away into the house, sobbing. Santana knew she should run after the Jewish girl, hell, Rachel would if the roles were reversed, but Brittany needed her. And despite not wanting to choose, the blonde needed her more than the diva did.

_What the fuck is Quinn doing? Why is she being such a bitch to everyone?_

Santana shook her head, shaking the questions out her head as the thought that she couldn't answer any of them was just fueling her frustration. She grasped the hazel eyed blondes bicep, twisting her round so they were face to face, staring angrily into each other's arms, "Stop whatever pathetic game you're playing."

Quinn snatched her arm away and clapped her hands together with fake enthusiasm, "Oh, yes, game. So Britt," She turned to the dancer, "How about that kiss?"

Mocha orbs scanned the area and landed on watery blue ones. She gulped and turned back round to Quinn who was clenching her jaw and flaring her nostrils. She wanted to kiss Brittany, and there was a flash of hope flowing through her body thinking Brittany might step up and do it, effectively shutting up Quinn and completely obliterating her bitchy, unnecessary public announcement. But all hope failed when Brittany chewed on her bottom lip, and Santana could read that as _I'm sorry._

"Please, Quinn," Brittany whispered, turning her attention back to Quinn, "Don't do this."

Santana half-spun around as Quinn brushed passed her and approached Brittany. The urge to yank the shorter blonde back burned through the brunette's muscles but she supressed it, knowing it wouldn't do anything to help or hinder the situation. So instead, she just watched as blue eyes flickered momentarily towards her before going back to the Quinn. The apologetic expression on Brittany's face burned into her heart, and she ducked her head in any attempt to conceal the hurt. Quinn was playing her stupid, fucking game, and Brittany was letting her win.

"Why?" Quinn spat, "Why her?"

Brittany bit her bottom lip, and started to shake her head slowly, "Please Q, I didn't me-"

Another sharp slap echoed through the garden and everyone gasped in sync. Santana snapped her head up as she felt the atmosphere raise and stared as Brittany clutched her face, and Quinn jabbed her finger into the other blonde's chest hard,

"Don't you fucking dare say you didn't mean too. You knew how much she means to me and you still fucking did it. You could've gone with anyone else. _Anyone_ else. Or was it because you'd already _gone_ through everyone else, Santana was the only one left?"

Brittany sobbed in response. The brunette raised her arms, leaving them to hang awkwardly away from her body before dropping them about a second later. She wanted to comfort Brittany, she wanted to rip Quinn's arms off for hurting Brittany - but she couldn't. Brittany was silently pleading her to stay out of it, and what Brittany wanted, no matter how hard or hurtful it was for Santana, Brittany got.

Blue eyes flickered to Santana, and Quinn followed the moment. Letting out a half-desperate, half-enraged chuckle and jabbed her finger towards the brunette a metre or so back, "How long was this going on for, huh? Were you _fucking _her behind my back the whole time? Or was it just recent."

"No, Quinn I-"

The anger flashed through Santana as she watched Quinn raise her hand again, in preparation to deliver another slap. But she couldn't hold it in anymore, she couldn't watch Quinn physically abuse Brittany when the dancer refused to retaliate. So she lurched forward, wrapping her fingers around her ex-girlfriend's wrist and tugging harshly, earning a whelp from her as she knew there'd probably be a bruise somewhere on the skin in the morning. The shorter blonde stumbled backwards and with a quick and light push, she fell backwards, landing ass first into one of the chairs.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," Santana snapped, taking a daunting step forward, "Who the fuck do you think you are? She hasn't done anything wrong. If you want to blame someone, blame me."

"S-San," Brittany whispered, her voice breaking at the end, "P-Please."

Santana stood her ground, the hurt in the voice coming from behind her almost made her want to cry. But she wouldn't let Quinn touch Brittany again, enough was enough. The first strike was a lucky, and she only allowed it because of Brittany's insistent silent pleading. But she knew if Quinn tried it again, she'd most probably walk away with a broken wrist, instead of bruised.

"Don't you fucking dare lay another hand on her."

Quinn's smirk faded, and her shoulders relaxed after a few long seconds. The fight was over, well, not fight, more like physical argument. Santana let out a quiet exhale of air before turning and cupping Brittany's cheeks between her hands, her eyes flicking between each sad, azure orb. "Britt, are you okay?"

Blue eyes glanced around the garden and Santana was suddenly aware that everyone was still watching. She spun around; sliding one hand to Brittany's waist, gripping tightly and raising both eyebrows at the rest of the crowd.

"What? Can we fucking help you with something?" Santana hissed, watching the whole crowd duck their head and return to spontaneous conversations. When she returned back to the other girl, tears were running down pale cheeks and Santana moved forward, pressing Brittany's forehead into her shoulder as she cradled the blonde.

"Ssshh," Santana murmured quietly, "It'll be alright."

Brittany stayed silent for a few seconds. But then snapped away and looked deeply into Santana's eyes. She didn't even need to say the words, because the expression on her face shouted volumes that only Santana could hear.

"I…I-"

Santana felt her heart falter. Whatever Brittany was going to say, wouldn't be good – and she closed her eyes, hoping the words would be replaced by something else. Anything else.

"I ca-" Brittany stuttered, sobbing heavily, "I need t-time, to t-think."

She glanced up, looking deep into sad blue orbs. She didn't want to give Brittany time, she'd spent too long being with someone she didn't want to be – but she understood. A forced small smile, but a smile none the least, graced her face and she nodded slowly, grudgingly dropping her hands and breaking all physical contact between her and Brittany.

The sound of a chair scraping along the pavestones broke Santana from her sad stupor, and she turned around, watching Quinn climb clumsily up onto one of the chairs with a new red cup in her hand.

"Everyone! Listen up!" Quinn yelled, catching the attention of the people that were pretending not to listen, "I'd like all of you to know, that Santana and I have broken up."

Santana narrowed her eyes. Pretty much everyone knew they'd broken up, so really the announcement was unnecessary. But there had to be an ulterior motive. And knowing Quinn, it wouldn't be a pleasant one. She took a step forward, away from Brittany and immediately felt the tug in her heart to step back. But Brittany needed time, time away from Santana, to think. So she took a continued, in the direction of Quinn and looked up at the blonde when she reached the chair.

"Quinn, what are you doing?" She hissed, darting her sight around the garden and seeing just how many people's eyes were trained on their conversation.

Hazel eyes zoned in on her and she suddenly felt two inches tall. Sure, she was literally on a lower level, but the way she was being stared at made her feel like she belonged in Smurfville or something.

Panic shot through Santana as Quinn fired her the deathly glare, instead of answer, and then resumed to waving her cup around. Santana did another quick once over of the garden, feeling increasingly conscious as she tried to reach for Quinn. Her heart was pounding as she watched the other girl rip her arm away from her reach and stumble to the side of the chair in a drunken manner. There was a part of Santana, deep down, that'd wish the blonde would fall off the table, because she knew whatever was coming, she wasn't going to like it – and an unconscious Quinn would be easier to deal with.

"I think everyone would like to hear this," Quinn said smugly, with a _I'm-going-to-ruin-your-life _expression.

Santana wanted to do something, anything. But she couldn't she was routed for her spot as the blonde jumped down from the table, landing in a crouch and lurching towards Brittany who stood wide eyed. Blue eyes met brown momentarily, and Santana held her stare until Quinn stepped between them and scoffed loudly, witnessing their visual exchange.

"Quinn I-"

"You've just been waiting all this fucking time haven't you? All along you've wanted to get your grubby fucking hands on _my_ girlfriend. Don't think I haven't seen it. All the longing stares, the disgusting little personal jokes and hidden meanings – did you think I didn't fucking see it!"

Brittany flinched, and her eyes turned glassy. Quinn took another step closer, prodding her finger deeply into the other blonde's chest. The dancer spared a frightened glance at Santana before staggering backwards an inch. She looked pleadingly at the blue eyed blonde, silently asking whether she should intervene, but Brittany shook her head subtly and returned to the angry blonde.

"See! Even now," Quinn let out. The anger still remained, but there was something twinging at her voice. Like tears were building up and she was trying as hard as she could to supress them. "These looks," She gestured between the intense stare they were locked in, "Just, have Santana all to yourself. Have my sloppy seconds."

"Please Quinn I-," Brittany whispered to the other blonde as a solitary tear trailed down her perfectly pale cheek. Quinn shook her head and snarled aggressively, letting out a small growl.

"Although Santana," The hazel eyed blonde said, back still turned to Santana. Brittany squeezed her eyes shut, causing more tears to fall as Quinn turned around dramatically slowly, and jabbed a perfectly manicured finger towards the brunette, "I can't say the same for you. Having Brittany all for yourself, you know what she can be like."

Santana pushed her tongue up against the back of her teeth, feeling the aggressive venom bubble at the back of her tongue as she clenched her jaw. It broke her out of her stupor and she practically leaped the distance between her and Brittany, immediately embracing the blonde in her arms once again, completely disregarding the space she _knew_ she needed to give Brittany.

"Of course, her knight in shining armour coming to her rescue," Quinn let out, following it with a sarcastic chuckle, "How sweet."

But Brittany didn't sink into Santana's embrace. Instead she stayed there for three seconds, before pushing away and revealing her tear stained cheeks. Santana felt her heart ache, she'd seen Brittany upset before, but at that time, it was just utterly heart wrenching.

"Britt-"

"No," Brittany weeped, "I-I…"

And then before Santana could focus, Brittany was out of her arms sprinting back through the house, hands over her face as she sobbed heavily. Santana immediately whipped her head around, clenching her fists and grinding her teeth as she stalked up to Quinn and stood about two inches away from her face. She saw red, her mouth was bubbling with venom and the jolt shooting down her arm urging her to punch the smug smile off Quinn's face burned through her veins.

"What the fuck," Santana snapped, "Is wrong with you! How could you even do that!"

Quinn crossed her arms, relaxed her face and somehow made herself look even more smug than before. She didn't bothering answering the brunette, and instead shook her head, laughed and then chucked down the rest of her drink before heading over to the far side of the garden, waving her little Cheerio sheep to follow.

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><p>Two long hours later, Santana arrived home where she slid down the front door and buried her head in her hands. Why the fuck did life have to be so complicated? Her phone buzzed, and she flicked it up to show <em>Berry<em> on the screen. She inhaled deeply and grudgingly, answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Santana?"

Santana pushed up off the floor and kicked off her shoes, "Yeah. Who else would it be?"

Rachel completely disregarded Santana's comment and asked in a panicked tone, "Are you okay?"

_No._

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Santana…" Rachel warned, her voice lowering a few octaves.

Santana made her way up the stairs, "I'm fine."

"But Quinn-"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Santana snapped, climbing out her clothes and heading for her dresser. Then the guilt came for snapping at her best friend. First of all she hadn't even told Rachel about the whole her and Brittany thing, then she was hissing at her. "It's just been a rough night."

A few seconds of silence answered her and she brought her phone away from her ear, checking Rachel was still on the line, "Rach?"

"Yah," Rachel sniffed, "Sorry."

Santana frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, "What happened with you and Puckerman?"

"I just… You know I've been tutoring him, right?"

She raised an eyebrow and crossed one tanned leg over the other, "Yeah…"

"Well," Rachel started, her voice wracking with nerves, "Santana, I have something to tell you."

Panic flashed through Santana and she uncrossed her legs, leaning forward, forearms pressed against the top of her thighs as she concentrated hard, furrowing her brows, "Right…"

"I, uh, I, have um,"

"Spit it out Berry."

"_IthinkIlikehim."_

The words came out so quickly, Santana had to read over them in her mind, repeating and making sure they were actually what she thought they were. After a couple of seconds, she realised Rachel _had_ actually said it, and started going through the phases of emotions. Anger... Betrayal... Denial... But finally she sighed, settling on the final phase. Acceptance.

"I know," Santana shrugged, even though Rachel couldn't see her, "It wasn't hard to work out."

"Wh-What?"

There was no point in being angry, it would just make her a raging hypocrite. Sure, she wished Rachel told her sooner, but apparently Puckerman wasn't that much of an ass anymore. Well, from what she'd seen earlier. Plus, he was her brother, which meant she could kick the shit out of him if he ever hurt Rachel. And that could possibly give Santana something to look forward too, seeing as she still owed him.

"I knew," Santana replied, slipping underneath the comforter and wriggling into bed, "And I'm cool with it."

It seemed Rachel was pretty dumbfounded as she didn't reply for a long, six second silence. Santana almost laughed, but instead she waited the silence, knowing Rachel would be pretty shocked considering her aversion to her brother only a week or so ago. Maybe there was hope for some people, including Puck.

"We're not dating or anything," Rachel let out, "Just to let you know."

"Whatever makes you happy, Berry. It just gives me another reason to kick his ass if he hurts you." Santana said with affection.

A laugh answered her comment and she furrowed her brows, "Wait, is that why Puck wanted to talk to me earlier?"

"Yeah, I mean I tried, but you seemed pretty distant so…"

Santana's eyes moved from side to side. She hadn't even realised Rachel to talk to her. For a few seconds she wondered what else she had missed, oh well, it not like it mattered anymore. "Yeah, sorry… I was a bit, caught up."

Rachel hummed sadly down the phone, "I know you don't wanna talk about it but Sa-"

"No, Rachel, please."

"Just listen, give me a minute?"

Santana gritted her teeth in response, and decided to give Rachel the benefit of the doubt. It was the least she could do.

"Thirty seconds." She reasoned reluctantly.

"Okay, thank you for giving me your ti-"

"Twenty eight, twenty seven…" Santana half-growled, rolling over onto her stomach and fiddling with the corner of the pillow.

"Santana! Anyway, I just wanted to say that maybe you should talk to Britt and Quinn. I mean it's obvious that Q isn't happy for you two, since her and Br-"

The guilt sunk deep into Santana's stomach. Rachel didn't even need to finish the sentence to let her know whatever she was about to say couldn't possibly make her feel shitter than she did at that moment, "I know Berry, I know it's her best friend so I don't need you to remind me that I'm a bad person. I already feel shit without _my_ best friend highlighting it."

"You're not a bad person, Lopez," Rachel started, "I'm just saying, you've got to get a blessing from Quinn before you do anything."

As much as Santana didn't want to accept it, Rachel did have a point. It wasn't like a marriage, but some of the aspects were the same, like Santana having to get the okay from Quinn to go ahead. Like a father and his daughter, to get to the daughter, the father had to approve. After everything it's the least she could do. Then again, Brittany had ran over earlier that evening and Quinn had been a total bitch, so the outlook for her and the dancer wasn't exactly bright – so what was the point in troubling Quinn if all she was going to do was get rejected by Brittany.

_Damn it, relationships are complicated._

"Well at the moment I don't exactly think me and Britt are on the best terms, so there's no need to worry about shit that isn't happening and cause more drama." Santana said, trying to be as non-chalant as possible, even though it was practically breaking her heart.

The mere thought of nothing coming of her and the blue eyed blonde made her ache in ways she didn't think were possible. She wanted it so damn badly. She'd jeopardised a hell of a lot to be with Brittany, and would do so all again, as long as in the end they were together, and happy. But what if Brittany didn't want her? What if, everything she'd done, was pointless and she ended up where she started, alone?

"She'll come around Santana, trust me."

But there was still this nagging feeling inside of Santana. She _really_ wanted Britt, hell she'd been waiting for the opportunity for months. And finally when she decided to step up, everything had gone to shit. It just wasn't fair.

So after a long silence she buried her face into the pillow, muffling her mouth as she mumbled, "What if she doesn't?"

Silence answered her once again and her stomach dropped. Even though she considered that Brittany might not come around to them developing whatever the hell was going on between them, it'd always been one of those things that she didn't want confirmed. Because thinking something, is completely different from _knowing_ something - and there was something strangely comforting about the lack of knowledge. And having Rachel answer her with silence was definitely one of those confirmations she didn't want to hear.

"I've gotta g,o Berry," Santana sighed, feeling the unshed tears brimming beneath her eyes, "I'll talk to you tomorrow or something."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

"Bye." She pulled the phone away from her ear, until she heard a small voice say _"Oh San?"._ She returned the phone to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry; it'll all turn out alright in the end."

_Easy for you to say._

"Yeah, thanks Berry. Night."

"Night San."

And then the phone went dead.

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><p>Santana woke the next year feeling just as shitty as she did the night before. It hadn't ended well, Brittany running off somewhere, and even when she searched for over an hour inside and then another outside the house - she had no luck. She groaned as she opened her eyes, knowing that Monday was coming too quick and buried her head deep into the pillow. What the hell had she done? Not only had she cheated on her girlfriend with her girlfriend's best friend, but she'd broken up with her and then been publically humiliated as Quinn revealed her and Brittany's doings - ending up with Brittany running away from her.<p>

It was always a risk, being with Quinn. Santana knew that, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with. Even though she had good reason to dislike Quinn, a hell of a lot, she didn't - Quinn had just done what she was too chicken shit to do. But what the hell was she supposed to do? Go and see Brittany? Go and talk to a sober Quinn? Fuck. Life was too damn complicated and not getting any easier.

Grudgingly, she pushed up out of bed, rubbing the ache that remained behind her eyes and padded down the hallway. She peered inside of Luis' room, not finding the small body she was expecting and wondered where he'd gone. In a few seconds she was in the bathroom, staring at the sticky note saying 'Gone into town with Luis, be back in a few' that was stuck to the mirror. She was slightly thankful for that, the chances of letting it out on her father, even though he hadn't done anything wrong, was incredibly high. He was like her verbal punching bag, and even though she didn't like to think in that perspective, he couldn't object considering recent news.

Santana leant against the sink, one hand either on the counter beside it and took a long, stare at herself. Her eyes were hollows, large bags were underneath and her hair was dishevelled and tangled. She stripped out of her girl boxers and tank top, and turned on the shower, combing through her hair with her fingers before climbing in. Cold water greeted her, and she assumed her Luis and Mario had both had a shower, because there didn't seem to be any signs of hot water coming. But she didn't mind, it was some type of self-punishment, so she waited it out, washing her hair and shivering as she climbed out and wrapped herself in a towel.

Just as she was about to reach for her hairbrush, the doorbell went and she assumed it was Mario forgetting his key again. It wouldn't have been the first. She grabbed another towel, a small one and started running it through her damp locks as she headed for the door. Her bare feet were slippy against the hardwood floor and she almost slipped walking down the stairs, but gripped tightly and basically slid her way to the front door. The doorbell went a few more times, apparently Mario was getting impatient.

"Alright, alright," She half-yelled, reaching for the door knob and swinging it open. "Oh."

Quinn stood in front of her, head dipped and hands clasped nervously in front of her. Hazel eyes widened, taking in Santana's current state and she turned incredibly self concious. With one hand, she tucked the towel further under her arm, securing it to herself as she continued to dab her hair.

"Can I help you?" Santana said sharply. She wasn't incredibly pissed, but she was still pissed none the less.

Quinn shuffled, "I uh," She stuttered, "I came to apologise."

"For what?"

Hazel eyes narrowed and looked away. Their relationship had taught Santana that Quinn didn't apologise, and she was gonna lengthen it out as much as possible. She had to get some type of revenge.

"You know what," Quinn replied softly, "And I'd just like to apologise. Can I come in?"

Santana raised one arm, the one with the small towel and leant against the doorframe, drumming her fingertips on the side as she stared at Quinn. There was nothing inside of her that wanted to let Quinn anywhere near her, hell she'd practically ruined her and Brittany's chances, being a bitch and all. Not only to her, but with Puck and Rachel too. Shit Rachel. She needed to talk to to her. But then again, Santana had cheated with her best friend, and not-so-subtley made out with Brittany in a shed - which reminded her. How did Quinn know?

"Fine," Santana huffed, throwing the door wider and stepping aside, "For a few minutes."

Quinn smiled weakly and nodded. "Thank you."

Both of them awkwardly made their way into the living room, Santana making sure her towel was secure as she moved her damp hair over onto one shoulder, and resumed drying it as the blonde sat down warily. Unwillingly, she perched on the far end, distancing herself as stared expectantly at Quinn. She wasn't going to start the conversation, she had nothing to say.

"Look," Hazel eyes darted around the room, "I'm sorry, okay? I had a little too much to drink last night and I know I shouldn't have announced everything."

Santana let her hands drop to her lap, "Alcohol isn't an excuse Q."

"I know, God, I know. But if I hadn't been drunk, I would never had said those things."

"Well a drunk mind speaks sober hearts."

A crease formed in the middle of Quinn's eyebrows, "Santana, this is hard for me."

Santana pushed up from the sofa and rubbed her temples, feeling frustrated with the other girl, "Damn Q, you don't think it is for me?"

"Well you hooked up with my best friend, not just anyone, my best fucking friend, not even twenty four hours after we broke up," Quinn snapped, "So yes, I think it's a hell of a lot easier for you."

"That's bullshit Q." Santana hissed back as she spun and closed the space between them.

They stood there, glaring at each other with narrowed eyes. Santana clenched her fists by her side as Quinn crossed her arms. The atmosphere was tense, it was obvious they were both pissed and neither were planning on backing down.

"I'm going to get changed." Santana deadpanned as she headed towards the bedroom.

Footsteps followed her and she groaned she cornered into her bedroom with Quinn in toe. There was no point in shutting the door, even though the slam would be a dramatic effect and it was her house which would make it better, the blonde would just follow her in. She could kick Quinn out, but knowing her, she'd probably pester Santana until they talked. Santana reached her wardrobe and opened it, grabbing whatever was in her reach and entered the bathroom, leaving Quinn to sit on her bed and think.

The decision whether or not to tell Quinn about her and Brittany's previous kisses, which meant telling Quinn about cheating on her, ran through her brain. Should she say something? It may come out in the future, and sure Quinn would probably be over it by then, but that would hurt Quinn more? And surely there was some type of duty to tell her? She couldn't lie. Well, she could, but that never got her anywhere before. She resumed to changing, slipping on her black sports bra and jeans before realising she hadn't grabbed a shirt. Shit. Without thinking, she exited and entered her bedroom - watching Quinn's eyes trail over her half naked body as she approached the dresser.

"Santana," Santana jumped, feeling the hot breath on her neck and realising Quinn was closer than she thought, "Why did you _really_ end it with me?"

Santana turned around, flickering between hazel eyes that were merely inches away from her. She instinctively backed up, nearly knocking a few objects off the top of her dresser. Her butt hit the front of it and she gripped the edges tightly, wanting to move away. But Quinn moved closer, blocking Santana's exit as she placed her hands either side of the dresser and leant in.

"Quinn," Santana said softer than intended, "What are you doing?"

The blonde licked her lips, "Asking you a question,"

Santana shook her head and slipped out from underneath the other girl's arms, before turning around facing her, "No, you know exactly what you're doing."

"I do," Quinn agreed, "I'm asking questions."

That pissed Santana off, she crossed her arms and felt the anger bubble in the pit of her stomach. How the hell could Quinn basically come onto her? She'd dumped the girl like a day or two ago, damn didn't she get the point?

"So? Why did you?" Quinn continued, moving closer once again, "Really break up with me I mean?"

The words formed on the tip of Santana's tongue. She cursed herself, wishing she could just say it but nothing came out. She didn't want to hurt Quinn, sure, Quinn had been a bitch, but if she knew the truth about Santana and Brittany, it would break her heart. And Santana had no intention of hurting Quinn., she did still care about her - but in a friendly way. Their relationship had led to an underlying friendship with the hazel eyed blonde, she didn't want to completely erase it. Exes always became friends, sometimes best friends. So she thought maybe her and Quinn could be friends. Right?

"When I saw you and Britt in the shed," Quinn started quietly, "It just… Is she the reason you broke up with me?"

Santana didn't reply. She kept her facial features stoic and tried to find any way to answer the blonde. "Q…"

"Do you still care about me?"

"Yes."

It was an immediate reaction. She did still care about Quinn, undeniably. Like she'd thought before, she cared for the blonde as a friend. But it wasn't until she saw hazel eyes sparkle slightly that she realised what Quinn was really asking. Shit.

"I'm still in love with you Santana."

Santana's mouth dropped open. She swallowed and flared her nostrils. Fuck, Quinn knew about her and Brittany, couldn't she just deal with her ex saying this. How could she shoot her down? They'd been together for months, and she did like her. Note the past tense.

"Quinn," Santana trailed off, "Look-"

But before she could say anything further, soft lips were pressed against her own, and hands were cupping her cheeks. It took a few seconds before she actually realised Quinn was kissing her and she wrapped her tanned fingers around the blonde's wrists, yanking them away and parting their lips. She stared incredulously at the girl in front of her, deliberating whether or not to slap her when she heard another voice.

"Santana?"

Santana's head whipped around faster than a head should be able too, and her veins spiked with the sound of that harmonious voice. Her eyes landed on the figure standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide and shaded with hurt.

Oh shit. Brittany.

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><p><strong>Sorry guys! Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, even though it was pretty short, and leave a comment if you have a few seconds to spare please! Thank you!<strong>


	16. Since When Were Things Ever Easy

**I am literally _so _sorry for the wait on this update. I know it's been months and I can't actually believe I left it for so long. I won't make excuses, I just got caught up in my other fics and gave them my attention instead. But seeing as my other fics are coming to an end, I thought I should finish this one up too.**

**This will be the last chapter, and I've loved writing it, despite it being difficult for the majority of the time. You guys are awesome if you've even bothered to stick with me to read this. Truly amazing. You are the reason I write.**

**I know this is a short chapter, but I had zero inspiration and wasn't seeing any in the future either. So I did the best I could with what I had.**

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the final update!**

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Based off One Tree Hill relationship storyline. Santana moves to Lima after her mother's will demands so. What happens when high school gets a bit too complicated? AU.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG-13  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Absolutely nothing to do with the actual show. Completely separate. (unfortunately)

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><p>"<em>You cannot run away from a weakness; you must sometimes fight it out or perish."<br>_- Robert Louis Stevenson

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><p>"It's not what it looks like," Santana said, whipping her head between the two blondes.<p>

Panic set through her veins, coursing and thumping and she could only plea with Brittany – hoping she'd see that despite appearances, and the smirk on Quinn's face, there was nothing going on from her side. Sure, Quinn had kissed her, but she didn't kiss back. She hoped to God Brittany would see that.

"So I'm just dreaming seeing you and Quinn kissing?" Brittany responded with a quivering bottom lip, and an arched brow. "And that you just have a _really _small shirt on?"

Santana glanced down immediately, eyes widening. She didn't have a shirt on. And her lips were just pressed against her ex-girlfriends. In her bedroom. _Oh God, _it looked so bad. "No, you did bu-"

"We're back together," Quinn chimed in, smirking and cocking her head to the side. "She just couldn't keep our hands off each other."

There was no way in hell Quinn would get away with this. A small whimper escaped Brittany's lips and Santana narrowed her eyes. Brittany wouldn't believe her, would she? Without a second more, the blue eyed blonde spun on her heels and darted out the bedroom door, eyes glossing over with unshed tears and flushed cheeks.

Santana wanted to chase after her. She wanted to push Quinn away from her and sprint down the stairs. But just as her foot moved, a hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back slightly violently, and if she were in a comic, steam would be blowing from her ears.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Santana hissed, snapping her head around towards her ex-girlfriend. "You're fucking _delusional! _We're not back together," she felt her upper lip snarl. "We'll _never _be back together, Quinn." Piping hot anger burned through her veins and she couldn't hold back everything she'd wanted to say. Everything she'd avoided saying because she knew exactly how harsh the words were. "I don't want you, anymore."

As soon as the words left her mouth she kind of regretted it. Not because it wasn't true, because _yeah, _it was. But because she could see the Quinn she fell in love with come out, eyes flashing with hurt and face crumple like she was about to cry. Feeling guilty, she offered out her hands sympathetically, hoping it would do something. There's no way it could make it worse. No harm in trying.

"Q... I-I'm so-"

"No." Quinn gritted out, shaking her head whilst a single tear trailed out her right eye.

Santana tried to convey an apology through her expression, because verbalising one just didn't seem to be working. But before she could even get it to etch across her face, Quinn was retreating towards the door, eyes locked with hers and a range of different emotions darkening the usually bright hazel.

"Qui-"

"Fuck you." Was the last thing she heard before Quinn disappeared out the door in a similar manner Brittany did only moments ago.

Everything kind of just sunk away at that moment. Santana felt her legs weaken and her butt hit the mattress, spine sagging forward until her hands were pressed into her face. There wasn't even any use in trying to chase after either of them. She'd just simultaneously destroyed three people's feelings. Quinn's. Her own's. And most importantly, Brittany's.

There was nothing but hate between them now. The friendship Brittany and Quinn once had was fucked up, all because Santana couldn't keep it in her fucking pants. Couldn't keep her emotions and feelings in check. She'd come to this town with her family, in hope of gaining something, but really, she'd just lost more than what she came with.

Not to mention she'd screwed up a strong friendship.

_Fuck. _Maybe she should just leave.

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><p>The day after, Santana decided moping in her room wasn't exactly helping, so she went downstairs to see what was going on.<p>

Mario was sitting at the kitchen table with Luis, grinning at whatever was playing on TV. Instantly, the older man looked up, concern etching across his face as he took in her state. Not exactly hard not too. She was in sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt and she barely had an make up on.

Scratch that, she thought, glancing in the mirror to her life. She had _no _make up on.

"Santana, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, dragging her feet along the ground as she headed into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a bottle of water and took the cap off before heading back towards the stairs, in hope of going upstairs.

Of course, Mario wouldn't let her go that easily.

"Santana Marie Lopez," he tugged on her bicep, halting her movement. "Why do you look like someone just told you Olivia Wilde was straight?"

Even Mario's damp humour couldn't make a smile come to her face, so instead she turned around and sucked in a deep, shaky breath. There were so many things running through her head and she didn't know what to do. On one hand, all she wanted was a parental figure to hug and cry into their shoulder. But on the other hand, she didn't want to make their relationship any better. That wasn't something she could handle considering what she was about to say next.

"I want to move out of Lima."

Mario scrunched his eyebrows together, confusion, hurt and curiosity flicking across his face. "Why?"

Santana shrugged, toying with the label on her bottle. "I just don't want to be here anymore."

"And where would you go?"

She glanced up, brows shooting to her hairline because of all the things she was expecting (a yelling match, possibly a few violent phrases or maybe even getting her ass kicked out before she got her belongings packed) she was definitely not expecting an understanding Mario.

"You're going to let me?" She asked anyway, her voice increasing in pitch as the words came out her mouth.

Mario crossed his arms, face entirely unimpressed but there was a gleam on understanding in his features. "I have no hold over you, Santana. You're nearly an adult, you may do what you please. If I keep you here, you'll grow to resent me more."

"I don't rese-"

"No, Santana," he stepped forward, grazing his palm over her shoulder comfortingly. "It's your choice."

She contemplated for a second the words mulling over in her mind. There was no point in trying to argue, because she knew fully well that if Mario said she couldn't go, she'd only get more infuriating and kick off – up until the point where she would be unbearable to live with. If Santana knew one thing, it was how to get her way. Not in the spoilt child kind of way, but she just knew how to press people's buttons – even though it wasn't a skill she used often.

But now that Mario was saying that, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go. Something in the way he was pretty cavalier about her leaving kind of made her think he wanted her to go. Pretty stupid but it was just how she felt.

"I mean I have some money saved up," she thought back to her mother's will. "I might just rent a little place somewhere. Wouldn't cost too much as long as I chose the right area."

Mario nodded, sucking in his lips. "Of course. Well, if it's what you want, Santana, then I will support you."

She just stood there, wide eyed and managed a smile when Mario shot her an understanding expression and turned away. She was left to her thoughts as she stood alone in the foyer.

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><p>Santana took the week of school. Not for any particular reason. Well, apart from the fact she couldn't handle all the glares she knew she'd get. Several eye rolls had been made every morning at 7am when her alarm went off, and she just ended up shutting it off and burying herself back into the blankets to sleep.<p>

Mario didn't question her either, only Luis said something, but she just shrugged it off, grabbed her bowl of Lucky Charms and headed back upstairs to her hermit cave of a bedroom.

She walked in on Monday with her headphones in because she really didn't want people to talk to her. There would be a flurry of questions about Quinn and Brittany and what happened. She was already getting several glances and practically hear the snide comments whispered under people's breaths (despite the headphones since apparently no-one in Lima knows about subtlety.) and she was only standing in the entrance. She hadn't even got as far as walking down the hallway, so she could only look forward to more of what was to come.

Ducking her head, she moved through the corridors, ignoring the judgemental expressions and shrugged her thumb further underneath the strap of her back pack. She was pretty sure she heard _slut _or _stupid bitch _muttered, but she was gone before she could turn around and react. People probably thought she was some type of whore or something. Dating Quinn, cheating with Brittany, then going back to Quinn (apparently) and crying when Brittany found out.

Really, people didn't even know the half of it.

She was about five steps away from her locker when she glanced up at the right (or wrong?) time. A jock, someone she didn't know, was walking straight for her, Slushy in hand and she barely had any time to react before the flavoured ice was dripping down her face. She'd never had that done before. And it wasn't something she wanted repeated.

It fucking _hurt. _Like, it may not have looked painful, but it was like getting hit in the kisser with a freakin' iceberg. Not to mention the corn syrup stung like a bitch when it seeped into her eyes.

Squeezing her eyes shut, and feeling her bag slip off her shoulder, she exhaled and tried to splutter out some of the strawberry flavouring. The corridor's echoed with chuckling, giggling and laughter from all the students, and she wanted to scream and yell. But considering she couldn't see, shouting in the _wrong _direction would just increase the humiliation.

Plus, there was no use in even trying to open her eyes. She'd learned from watching others get slushied, that the liquid just seeps in more and stings like a mother fucker if you try and open your eyes.

She felt someone near her, and instantly wanted to yell but instead, a hand wrapped around her wrist and she was being dragged away. Truthfully, she couldn't' really care who was holding onto her right now. They were getting her away from all the laughing and the idiotic comments the meat head jocks were coming up with. A combination of _you got served _in a 'blaccent' (black accent) and _freeze you later_.

She was merely aware of a door opening, and only moments later the scent of the overused perfume, a variety of different spray deodorants and strangely enough, make-up, wafted under her nose and she knew where she was. Girl's bathroom.

The person tugging her grabbed her bicep, stepping incredibly close and tilted her chin up to examine her slushy facial. It was also in that moment where she realised exactly who this person was and her whole body stiffened like someone poked her in the ass with a fork. She gritted her teeth, jaw clenching and tried to pull back, but another hand cupped the back of her skull and forced her to stay in place.

"Stay still," Brittany hissed lowly.

But Santana being Santana, she tried to rebel further, lifting her hands to grip at the limbs holding her face. "Just leave it, Brittany."

"No," Brittany stepped closer until their bodies were pressing together. Instinctively, Santana took a step back until there was nowhere to go as her butt hit the sink. Brittany just moved forward and practically pinned her to the damn thing.

"You don't want to do this," Santana said quietly. "So stop."

Even though it hurt, she knew Brittany didn't actually want to help her. Why would she? After all, it was only a few days ago she walked in on Quinn kissing Santana, and then everything fucked up further. There'd no texts, no calls in a whole week. Absolutely nothing to keep them talking. So as far she knew, Brittany was still pissed, still upset, and Santana was still alone.

"I do," Brittany's voice was lower and she released her grip, returning only seconds later with a towel to dab at Santana's face. "I don't want to see you get slushied."

Feeling the moisture being wiped off her eyes, she managed to crack them open, squinting when the corn syrup stung them. Brittany was impossibly close. All her freckles visible and eyes bright as they were about an inch away from Santana's face. A gasp caught in her throat and she felt her facial muscles falter.

It was pretty hard to be so close to something that really, she was so far away from.

"It's not your fault," Santana tried to reason. "That jackass who threw it, it's his fault."

Brittany frowned slightly, pursing her lips as she cupped the curve of Santana's jaw in one hand, and continued to wipe away at her hairline with the other one grasping the towel. She said nothing, only replying with a low hum of acknowledgement.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, Brittany dabbing away the bright red slushy and Santana with her eyes trained on the curve of the blondes cheekbone, the dip above her lip, the glow of her pale skin and the sheer sparkle to her brilliantly blue eyes. She felt herself let out an exhale she didn't know she was holding and suddenly the movement on her face stopped.

_Shit._

"There's not much I can do about your shirt," Brittany shrugged, picking up the neckline of Santana's white tank top which was still drenched in drying, sticky, red liquid. "But I've got as much off your face as I can."

There were so many things she wanted to say. Ranging from _thank you _to _Brittany I need you _to _I didn't kiss Quinn_ – but none of them really seemed all that effective. Nodding appreciatively, she tried a small smile and cleared her throat, standing up straight (after releasing her slouched position) and came eye to eye with the blonde, breath mingling in the minuscule gap between their lips.

In the back of her mind she kind of liked the height of her boots.

"Uh," she groaned, tasting Brittany's breath on her tongue. "Sorry."

Brittany's eyes flashed with something unrecognisable, before flickering down to pouty lips and back up. "San-"

"I'm moving."

Santana wasn't even entirely sure why the hell she'd decided in that moment. There was no reason. No thought process behind it, and sure as hell no intention of causing the hurt to etch its way across Brittany's face. She kind of wished she could take it back, but then again, it was going to have to come out at some point – might as well have been then.

"W-what?" Brittany crinkled her eyes, blue glossing over with unshed tears.

"I'm moving," Santana repeated, suddenly regretting her choice. She thought there was no point in staying. "Moving out of Lima."

Brittany took a step back, swallowing audibly. She looked so damn small and vulnerable it made Santana feel like she just kicked a puppy. "W-where too?"

"I don't know yet," Santana answered honestly. "Probably like Cincinnati or Boston. I have family there." Not entirely untrue. They were just more like family friends than actual family.

"Why?" Brittany asked through a long exhale, shoulders sinking and her entire demeanour falling.

Santana shrugged and tried to rack her mind for an answer. What was that sudden idea to move spurred by? Why was she doing it? Technically, she didn't need too. She just wanted too because she couldn't face her problems.

"Because I need too," she tried to tell herself that as well as Brittany. "There's not really any reason for me to stay, either."

She knew as soon as the words came out her mouth how they sounded. Brittany jerked back, almost like Santana had slapped her or something and instead of sinking into a small, vulnerable ball, she buffed out her shoulders and her face twisted with anger.

"So that's it?" Brittany started, voice rising. "You're just going to run away from your problems?" The blonde narrowed her eyes and took a cautious step forward, face etching with disbelief. "That doesn't work, Santana."

Santana pushed her tongue up against the back of her teeth, eyebrow cocking challengingly. "I find it does."

"Oh my God!" Brittany threw her hands into the air, before slapping them back down against her thighs. "What is your problem!"

That was all it took for Santana to snap. She'd been so good. But now it was like Brittany didn't want her to go, even though there had been no attempt at contact in a whole freakin' week, and now she had the audacity to come up and ask Santana what _her _problem was? The fucking cheek.

Feeling her breath grow shallower, and anger seeping through her veins, she shot up and clenched her fists. "_You're_ my fucking problem, Brittany!"

Jerking her head back, Brittany's face fell. It didn't do anything to sway Santana's anger, though.

"You do all these fucking things that makes me think you like me. I come back into school, risking my life for you because I couldn't bare to even think of anyone touching, let alone hurting you, and there's nothing said. We have all these moments that neither of us bring up, but both of us know what they mean."

"I mean," she laughed at herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, "We fucking kiss," she turned around to face the mirror, glaring at the ceramic plug hole of the sink to quell some of the anger because it was just getting too much. "Several fucking amazing times, may I add and then I break up with my _fucking girlfriend _for you." That time she spun around and gritted her teeth, "Then we _almost _get somewhere, but you basically run off because you can't handle shit."

Brittany's mouth fell open, readying to say something but Santana held up a hand, pausing it before it came out.

"Yeah, sure, it's hard for you with Quinn being your best friend, but you're so concerned with keeping everyone else fucking happy that you completely forget yourself and what you want!" Something resembling knowing sadness and hurt flashed across blue eyes. "You stayed with Puckerman for reasons I will never know, nor understand, and let him practically walk all over you when you could do a million times better than that _jackass._"

"And to top it all off, you walk in on Quinn kissing _me, _and for some unknown fucking reason," she took a step towards Brittany until they were basically nose to nose, seething at the mouth as she stared up at the blonde, "You think after _everything _I've done and told you, you think I'd go running back to Quinn when clearly," she clenched her jaw, "I'd fallen for you a long time ago."

She stepped back, feeling her pulse throb in her neck from the aggressive adrenaline. "Down that fucking shit hole of a corridor." Brittany's whole face relaxed, eyes softening and her lips disappearing into her mouth as Santana's voice slowly declined into a hushed tone. "Because seeing you," brown eyes locked with sparkling blue, "Was like seeing the light for the first time after an eternity of darkness."

Breathing hard and heavy, Santana realized just how much she'd said and how every little thought that ever crossed through her mind had finally come out. There were so many consequences, outcomes and reactions she'd thought of, for every single possibility, but never had she been expecting the one she was about to receive.

"Ditto."

One word. No different from any other word in the English dictionary, or any dictionary from that matter. And yet it meant so much. It somehow managed to change the fire pulsing in her veins to some weird, fluffy vibration that made the corners of her mouth pull up. Brittany's eyes were no longer dark and hurt, they were sparkling brighter than ever. Santana could feel her heart pounding for a completely different reason now and despite the sudden switch of emotions, their entire argument just didn't seem to matter.

But still, she'd had got a few things wrong in her life. So she needed some type of elaboration. "Ditto?" She repeated, arching a brow despite the small smile playing at her lips.

Brittany ran her tongue along her bottom lip, nodding slowly as she closed the gap between their bodies. "I fell for you a long time ago, too."

Santana's heart flipped with complete elation as pale arms snaked around her neck, cupping the nape gently and foreheads rested against one another. "You did?"

"I couldn't exactly hide it," Brittany explained, shrugging lightly. "It was too hard. And the only reason I pushed you away was because I couldn't handle you being so close to me when I couldn't have you."

Slipping her hands around Brittany's waist, Santana grinned. "So what does this mean? For us?"

"I don't know. But I can't hide it any longer."

It was like Brittany was reading the scripted lines in Santana's head. They were pretty much dead on. All of the responses she wanted too hear. She tilted her head to the side, still smiling as Brittany's breath coated her lips and made her mouth water with anticipation. "Me neither."

Brittany's eyes fluttered shut as she pulled lightly on dark brown locks and then they were kissing. Slowly, lazily, languidly, but perfectly. Santana ran her tongue along the blondes bottom lip, gradually coaxing it open until their tongues met, caressing and sliding against each other with ease that shouldn't be as practised as it was. It was like the first time two people kiss, all the finesse, care and anxiousness is there, but for them, it just felt like the beginning of something bright and big.

Something amazing. Complicated, none the less. But so fucking brilliant.

And despite them still having a million things to say, a million things to do, and a million things to discuss, including Quinn, moving, and stupid slushies and asshole jocks - they knew they'd be fine. Because they had each other.

Things would be hard, _excruciatingly _hard. But since when were things easy?

She almost chuckled at the thought, but lost herself in Brittany's kiss instead.

At least some things were easy.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading, it's been an honour to write for you. Again, apologies for the wait, and I know it's a sudden ending but that's how the cookie crumbles!<strong>

**Check out my other fics! You're awesome!**


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